GIFT  OF 
Dr.  Horace  Ivie 


1 


EDUCATION  DEPT 


NOETHEND'S 


SEBIESL 


THE 


OK 

PRIMARY    SCHOOL 

SPEAKER. 

BY  CHARLES  NORTHEND,  A.M. 

AUTHOR  OF  "TEACHER  AND  PARENT,"  "TEACHER'S  ASSISTANT,"  F.TC. 

NEW  YOKE: 
PUBLISHED  BY  A.  S.  BARNES  &  BURR, 

51  &  53  JOHN-STREET. 
1865. 


GFFTOP 


Wf(lin^t<>  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1859, 
BY  A.  8.  BARNES  &  BURK, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States, 
for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York.        • 


EDUCATION  DEFT 


INTRODUCTION 


WITHIN  the  last  few  years,  increased  atten- 
tion has  been  given  to  the  "speaking  of 
pieces,"  in  our  public  schools.  The  practice 
is  a  very  important  one;  and,  if  rightly 
attended  to,  will  produce  very  satisfactory 
results. 

The  recitation  of  pieces,  or  declamations, 
should  receive  attention  at  an  early  period. 
Pupils  in  our  primary  and  intermediate 
schools  may  engage  in  such  exercises  with 
profit  and  pleasure. 

In  the  preparation  of  this  little  book,  it 
has  been  the  compiler's  aim  to  select  such 
pieces  as  shall  be  adapted  to  the  capacities  of 
children  under  twelve  years  of  age,  and  at 


9^4215 


VI  *  INTRODUCTION. 


the  same  time  to  have  the  matter  such  as  will 
make  proper  moral  impressions. 

It  is  commended  to  the  kind  attention 
of  the  teachers  of  our  primary  and  inter- 
mediate schools,  with  the  earnest  hope  that 
it  may  tend  to  increase  the  happiness  and 
usefulness  of  the  little  folks,  for  whose  use 
it  has  been  prepared. 


CONTENTS, 

PART    I 

PAC 

.-POETRY. 

E.                                                                                        PAC 

5       THE  MOUNTAIN  AWD  THU  SQUIRREL, 

X. 

43 
44 
45 
48 
47 
48 
49 
51 

53 

54 
55 
56 
57 
58 
59 
60 
61 
62 
63 
64 
65 
66 
67 
68 
71 
71 
74 
75 
78 
77 
78 
78 
79 
81 
8Q 
83 

10                      LI       LEH       SANDMAN 

THK  TRAP  AND   MOUSE,       .... 

THE  BOY  WHO  TOLD  A  UK,     .    . 
THE  BOY  WHO  NEVER  TOLD  A  LIB, 
GBNERAL  WASHINGTON,  

15        WHY  YIELD  TO  GRIEF,  

16     A  THOUGHTLESS  MAW,     
16     WHAT  WILL  THE  HARVEST  BK,  .    . 

TEMPERANCE  SONG,    

18     RULES  OF  SCHOOL,    

20        KEEP  TO   THE   RIGHT,     

THE  HAPPY  SCHOOL-BOY,     .    .    • 
THE  WARNING  BELL,  
THE  BLUE-BIRD  AND  LITTLE  BOY, 
OUR  NATIVE  LAND,  

22        A  LESSON  OF  LOVE,    

24     LINES  FOR  AN  EXHIBITION,   .    .    . 

J                                     ' 

* 

THE  MINUTES,    

32       A  LAY  FROM  MY  POULTRY  YARD,  . 
33       BE  FIRM,     

' 

' 

LITTLE  WILLIE  AND  THJB  APPLE,   . 

36     THE  GIANT  

LITTLE  BT  LITTLE,    

40     THE  ROOK  AND  THK  LARK,   ... 

TltE  YOUNG  ORATOR,     .            ... 

42     VACATION,    

viii                                             CONTENTS. 

PART 

PJ 
OUR  PARENTS,  

II.-PROSE 

IGE. 

85     THE  BAD  SCHOLAR,    .    .        . 
86      THE  GOOD  SCHOLAR,.    .    .    . 
87      THE  DISOBEDIENT  KITTEN,  .    . 

PAGB. 

.      101 
.    .  102 
.     103 

LITTLE  BY  LITTLE,    ....... 

90      LESSONS  TAUGHT  BY  A  SHELL, 

.     105 
.    .  107 

93      SPRING            ' 

TRY,    

PART  III 

PA 

-DIALOGUES. 

GE. 
113        DON'T  BE  QUARRELSOME,     .     . 
114         O.V    DECEPTION,        

PAGE. 
.      141 
.    .  143 
.     144 

THE  CHILD  AND  THE  RILL.,    .      .      . 

118      ON  SCHOOI,    

.     .  146 

.     H8 

.    .  149 

T                                           ' 

.    .  153 

HE  RAGGED  GIRL  S  .U.  DAY,  .      . 

1                             DC                KD    TION,   . 

SCHOOL    DIALOGUE}     

1'26        THE  LITTLE  PHILOSOPHER,  .      . 

.     158 
.    .  162 

' 

QUESTIONS  ANSWERED,   .... 

.    .  165 

.     167 
.    .  170 
.      172 

THE   GOLDEN    RULE,      .      .      . 

134      WHICH  DID  THE  BEST,  .    .    . 

A  NEW  TIPPET'S  WORTH,  .... 

140      CLOSE  OF  SCHOOL,     .... 

.     176 

THE  LITTLE  ORATOR, 

PAET  I.— POETRY. 
MAKE  YOUR  MARK. 

IN  the  quarries  should  you  toil, 

Make  your  mark; 
Do  you  delve  upon  the  soil  ? 

Make  your  mark; 
In  whatever  path  you  go, 

In  whatever  place  you  stand, 
Moving  swift  or  moving  slow, 
With"  a  firm  and  honest  hand, 
Make  your  mark. 

Life  is  fleeting  as  a  shade ; 

Make  your  mark; 
Marks  cf  some  kind  must  be  made, 

Make  your  mark; 
Make  it  while  your  heart  is  strong, 

In  the  golden  hours  of  youth ; 
Never,  never  make  it  wrong ; 
Make  it  with  the  stamp  of  truth — 
Make  your  mark. 


10  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


,       TOO  LATE. 

Too  late  to  rise,  too  late  for  school, 
Too  late  to  keep  by  each  good  rule, 
The  sluggard  soon  becomes  a  fool : 
Oh !  never  be  "  too  late.11 

Oh !  use  the  precious  hours  to-day, 
To  gather  knowledge  while  you  may, 
For  quickly  hasteth  Time  away : 
Then  never  be  "  too  late." 

And,  grateful  to  your  parents  be, 
For  tenderly  they've  cared  for  thee ; 
And  soon  on  earth  you  may  them  see, 
No  more — and  mourn  "  too  late." 

And,  to  thy  suffering  brother-man 
Give  aid  and  comfort,  while  you  can, 
Aye,  like  the  good  Samaritan, 
Ere  yet  it  be  "too  late." 

To  all  Death  hasteth  on  apace, 
Then  seek  thy  heavenly  Father's  face, 
Through  life  to  guide  thee  by  His  grace—- 
Ere yet  it  be  u  too  late." 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  11 


A  CHILD  MAY  BE  USEFUL. 

I  MAY,  if  I  have  but  a  mind, 

Do  good  in  many  ways. 
Plenty  to  do  the  young  may  find, 

In  these  our  busy  days. 
Sad  would  it  be,  though  young  and  small, 
If  I  were  of  no  use  at  all. 

One  gentle  word,  that  I  may  speak, 

Or  one  kind,  loving  deed, 
May,  though  a  trifle  poor  and  weak, 

Prove  like  a  tiny  seed ; 
And  who  can  tell  what  good  may  spring 
From  such  a  very  little  thing? 

Then  let  me  try,  each  day  and  hour, 

To  act  upon  this  little  plan, 
What  little  good  is  in  my  power, 

To  do  it  while  I  can. 
If  to  be  useful  thus  I  try, 
I  may  do  better  by  and  by. 


DOING  RIGHT. 

0,  THAT  it  were  my  chief  delight 
To  do  the  things  I  ought; 

Then  let  me  try,  with  all  my  might, 
To  mind  what  I  am  taught. 


12  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


Wherever  I  am  bid  to  go, 

I'll  cheerfully  obey, 
Nor  will  I  mind  it  much,  although 

I  leave  some  pretty  play. 

When  I  am  bid,  I'll  freely  bring 

Whatever  I  have  got, 
And  never  touch  a  pretty  thing, 

If  mother  tells  me  not. 

When  she  permits  me,  I  may  tell 

About  my  little  toys ; 
But  if  she's  busy,  or  unwell, 

I  must  not  make  a  noise. 

And,  when  I  learn  my  hymns  to  say, 
And  work,  and  read,  and  spell, 

I  will  not  think  about  my  play, 
But  try  to  do  it  well. 

For  God  looks  down  from  heaven  on  high, 

Our  actions  to  behold, 
And  he  is  pleased  when  children  try 

To  do  as  they  are  told. 


THE  TRAP  AND  THE  YOUNG  MOUSE. 

IN  a  crack,  near  the  cupboard,  with  dainties  provided, 
A  certain  young  mouse  with  her  mother  resided: 
So  securely  they  lived,  in  that  snug,  quiet  spot, 
Any  mouse  in  the  land  might  have  envied  their  lot 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  13 


But  one  day  the  young  mouse,  who  was  given  to  roam, 
Having  made  an  excursion  some  way  from  her  home, 
On  a  sudden  return'd  with  such  joy  in  her  eyes 
That  her  grave,  sedate  parent  expressed  some  surprise. 

"Oh,  mother !"  said  she,  "  the  good  folks  of  this  house, 
I'm  convinced,  have  not  any  ill-will  to  a  mouse ; 
And  those  tales  can't  be  true  you  always  are  telling, 
For  they've  been  at  such  pains  to  construct  us  a 
dwelling. 

"  The  floor  is  of  wood,  and  the  walls  are  of  wires, 
Exactly  the  size  that  one's  comfort  requires ; 
And  I'm  sure  that  we  there  should  have  nothing  to  fear 
If  ten  cats,  with  their  kittens,  at  once  should  appear. 

"  And  then  they  have  made  such  nice  holes  in  the  wall, 
One  could  slip  in  and  out  with  no  trouble  at  all ; 
But  forcing  one  through  such  rough  crannies  as  these 
Always  gives  one's  perceptions  a  terrible  squeeze. 

"  But  the  best  of  all  is,  they've  provided  us  well 
With  a  large  piece  of  cheese  of  most  exquisite  smell ; 
'T\vas  so  nice  I  had  put  in  my  head  to  go  through, 
When  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  come  and  get  you." 

"Ah,  child,"  said  the  mother  ," believe,  I  entreat, 
Both  the  cage  and  the  cheese  are  a  terrible  cheat : 
Do  not  think  all  that  trouble  they  take  for  our  good : 
They  woull  catch  us,  and  kill  us  all  there,  if  they  could, 


14  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


uAs  they've  caught  and  kill'd  scores;   and  I  never 

could  learn 

That  a  mouse  who  once  enter'd  did  ever  return !" 
Let  the  young  people  mind  what  the  old  people  say, 
And  when  danger  is  near  them  keep  out  of  the  way. 


WHAT  I  LIVE  FOR. 

FM  not  made  for  idle  play, 
Like  the  butterfly,  all  day ; 
Shameful  would  it  be  to  grow 
Like  a  dunce,  and  nothing  know : 
I  must  learn  to  read,  and  look 
Often  in  God's  holy  book. 

Busy  I  must  be,  and  do 
"What  is  right  and  useful  too ; 
What  my  parents,  fond  and  kind, 
Bid  me,  I  will  gladly  mind ; 
Never  cause  them  grief  and  pain, 
Nor  will  I  disobey  again. 

But  to  God  I  still  will  pray, 
"  Take  my  wicked  heart  away  ;w 
He  from  sin  can  make  me  free, 
For  the  Saviour  died  for  me. 
0,  how  happy,  life-to  spend, 
With  the  Saviour  for  my  friend. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  15 


THE  BOY  WHO  TCLD  A  HE. 

THE  mother  looked  pale,  and  her  face  was  sad, 
She  seemed  to  have  nothing  to  make  her  glad ; 
She  silently  sat,  with  the  tears  in  her  eye, 
For  her  dear  little  boy  had  told  a  lie. 

He  was  a  gentle,  affectionate  child, 
His  ways  were  winning,  his  temper  was  mild  j 
There  was  love  and  joy  in  his  soft  blue  eye, 
But  the  dear  little  boy  had  told  a  lie. 

He  stood  alone  by  the  window  within, 
For  he  felt  that  his  soul  was  stained  with  sin ; 
And  his  mother  could  hear  him  sob  and  cry,. 
Because  he  had  told  her  that  wicked  lie. 

Then  he  came  and  stood  by  his  mother's  side, 
And  asked  for  a  kiss,  which  she  denied ; 
While  he  promised,  with  many  a  penitent  sigh, 
That  he  never  would  tell  another  lie. 

So  she  bade  him  before  her  kneel  gently  down, 
And  took  his  soft  hands  within  her  own ; 
And  she  kissed  his  cheek,  as  he  looked  on  high 
And  prayed  to  be  pardoned  for  telling  that  lie. 


1C)  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


THE  BOY  WHO  NEVER  TOLD  A  LIE. 

ONCE  there  was  a  little  boy, 

With  curly  hair  and  pleasant  eye — 

A  boy  who  always  told  the  truth, 
And  never,  never  told  a  lie. 

And  when  he  trotted  off  to  school, 
The  children  all  about  would  cry, 

"  There  goes  the  curly-headed,  boy — 
The  boy  that  never  tells  a  lie." 

And  every  body  loved  him  so, 
Because  he  always  told  the  truth, 

That  every  day,  as  he  grew  up, 

'Twas  said,  "  There  goes  the  honest  youth." 

And  when  the  people  that  stood  near 
Would  turn  to  ask  the  reason  why, 

The  answer  would  be  always  this: 
u  Because  he  never  tells  a  lie." 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON. 

WHEN  General  Washington  was  young, 

About  as  big  as  T, 
He  never  would  permit  his  tongue 

To  tell  a  willful  lie.' 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  1*7 


Once,  when  he  cut  his  father's  tree, 

He  owned  it  to  his  face ; 
And  then  his  father  ardently 

Clasped  him  in  his  embrace. 

He  told  his  son  it  pleased  him  more 
To  find  him  own  the  truth, 

Than  if  his  tree  were  bending  o'er 
With  rich  and  golden  fruit. 

Then,  like  this  good  and  noble  youth, 
Whose  virtues  ever  shone, 

Fll  seek  the  paths  of  love  and  truth, 
And  all  my  faults  will  own. 


I'LL  NEVER  USE  TOBACCO. 

"  I'LL  never  use  tobacco,  no, 

It  is  a  filthy  weed ; 
I'll  never  put  it  in  my  mouth," 
Said  little  Robert  Reid. 

"  Why,  there  was  idle  Jerry  Jones, 

As  dirty  as  a  pig, 

Who  smoked  when  only  ten  years  old, 
And  thought  it  made  him  big. 

"  He'd  puff  along  the  open  street, 

As  if  he  had  no  shame ; 
He'd  sit  beside  the  tavern -door, 
And  there  he'd  do  the  same. 


18  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


"  He  spent  his  time,  and  money  too, 

And  made  his  mother  sad ; 
She  feared  a  worthless  man  would  come 
From  such  a  worthless  lad. 

Oh,  no,  I'll  never  smoke  or  chew, 

'Tis  very  wrong  indeed ; 
It  hurts  the  health,  it  makes  bad  breath," 

Said  little  Robert  Reid. 


TEMPERANCE  SONG. 

I  ASKED  a  sweet  robin,  one  morning  in  May, 
Who  sung  in  the  apple-tree  over  the  way, 
What  'twas  she  was  singing  so  sweetly  about, 
For  I'd  tried  a  long  time,  but  could  not  find  out : 
"Why,  I'm  sure,"  she  replied,  "you  can  not  guess 

wrong ; 
Don't  you  know  I  am  singing  a  temperance  song  ? 

"  Teetotal— 0,  that's  the  first  word  of  my  lay ; 
And  then  don't  you  see  how  I  twitter  away  ? 
Tis  because  I've  just  dipped  my  beak  in  the  spring, 
And  brushed  the  fair  face  of  the  lake  with  my  wing. 
Cold  water !  cold  water !  yes,  that  is  my  song ; 
And  I  love  to  keep  singing  it  all  the  day  long. 

"  And  now,  my  sweet  mi«?,  won't  you  give  me  a  crumb ; 
For  the  dear  little  nestlings  are  waiting  at  home  ? 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  19 

And  one  thing  besides ;  since  my  story  youVe  heard, 
I  hope  you1!!  remember  the  lay  of  the  bird ; 
And  never  forget,  while  you  list  to  my  song, 
All  the  birds  to  the  cold-water  army  belong. 


WHAT  I  HATE. 

I  HATE  to  see  a  little  girl 
That  does  not  love  to  rise, 

And  have  the  water,  fresh  and  sweet> 
Cover  her  face  and  eyes. 

I  hate  to  see  her  pretty  dress 
So  careless,  look  and  tossed, 

Her  toys  all  scattered  here  and  there, 
Her  thread  and  needle  lost 

I  hate  to  see  her,  at  her  play — 
When  little  girls  have  met 

To  frolic,  laugh,  and  run  about — 
Grow  peevish,  cry,  and  fret 

I  hate  to  hear  her  tell  a  lie — 
What's  not  her  own  to  take ; 

Mamma's  commands  to  disobey 
And  father's  rules  to  break. 

And  now  I've  told  you  what  I  hate, 

Til  only  stop  to  say, 
Perhaps  Til  tell  you  what  I  love, 

Upon  some  other  day. 


20  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


Y-'HAT  I  LOVK 

I  LOVE  to  see  a  little  girl 

Rise  with  the  lark  so  bright ; 
Bathe,  comb,  and  dress  with  cheerful  face, 

Then  thank  the  God  of  light. 

And,  when  she  comes  to  meet  mamma, 

So  fresh,  and  neat,  and  clean, 
And  asks  a  kiss  from  dear  papa, 

With  such  a  modest  mien, 

That  all  who  see  her  gentle  look, 

And  pretty  actions  too, 
"Will  feel  that  she's  a  darling  child — 

Kind,  honest,  loving,  true. 

These  are  the  things  I  so  much  like ; 

And  now,  who'll  try  to  be 
The  meek  and  modest  little  girl 

Which  you  before  you  see  ? 


THE  HAPPY  SCHOOL-BOY. 

I  AM  a  happy  school-boy,  for  daily  I  am  blest ; 
I  like  to  go  to  school,  my  boys,  and  try  to  do  my  best ; 
It  is  a  pleasing  task  for  mo,  to  learn  to  read  and  spell ; 
A  world  of  pleasure  it  affords,  to  say  my  lessons  well. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  21 

How  smiling  then  my  teacher  looks,  to  hear  me  thus 

recite, 
He  fondly  takes  me  by  the  hand,  and  says,  "  My  boy, 

that's  right:" 
My  heart  it  swells  with  conscious  pride,  that  I  hare 

done  so  well ; 
"Who  would  not  be  a  school-boy,  and  labor  to  excel  ? 

How  pleasantly  my  school-days  pass,  while  thus  I  am 
employed ; 

My  useful  spirits  buoyed  with  hope — my  heart  is  over- 
joyed ; 

But  well  I  know  these  pleasant  hours  with  me  will  soon 
be  passed, 

For  riper  years,  with  worldly  cares,  are  hastening  on 
quite  fast. 

My  labor  now  is  not  in  vain,  for  often  I  am  told, 
That  education  is,  by  far,  more  valuable  than  gold : 
Then  I'll  improve  these  precious  hours,  and  give  the 

strictest  heed, 
That,  when  I'm  grown  to  be  a  man,  I'll  be  a  man  indeed. 

So  I'm  resolved  to  be  a  man — I  will  not  be  a  fool ; 
Then  on  with  caps  and  mittens,  boys,  and  haste  away 

to  school ; 
To  school !  to  school !  be  lively  boys,  we  have  no  time 

to  lose ; 
And  every  day  we'll  wiser  grow — what  better  can  we 

choose  ? 


22  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


'THE  WARNING  BELL." 


IN  every  youthful  breast  doth  dwell 

A  little  tingling,  jingling  bell, 

Which  rings  if  we  do  ill  or  well ; 

And  when  we  put  bad  thoughts  to  flight, 

And  choose  to  do  the  good  and  right, 

It  sings  a  paean  of  delight 

But,  if  we  choose  to  do  the  wrong, 

And  'gainst  the  weak  strive  with  the  strorg, 

It  tolls  a  solemn,  saddened  song. 

And  should  we,  on  some  darksome  day, 

When  hope  lights  not  the  cheerless  way,     • 

Far  from  the  path  of  duty  stray, 

'Twill,  with  its  tones  serene  and  clear, 

Of  warning  in  the  spirit's  ear, 

Our  slow  returning  foo-tsteps  cheer; 

And  always  in  the  worldly  mart, 

With  its  sweet  song  it  cheers  each  heart, 

To  do  with  energy  their  part. 

Then  let  us  strive,  with  main  and  might, 

To  shun  the  wrong  and  do  the  right, 

And  the  bell's  warning  song  ne'er  slight 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  23 


THE  BLUE-BIRD  AND  KTTLE  BOY. 

WHAT  do  you  say  to  God,  little  bird, 
When  you  sing  your  evening  hymn, 

When  you  see  the  red  sun  sink  in  the  west, 
And  my  little  eyes  grow  dim  ? 

I  thank  Him  for  all  my  fine,  fat  worms, 

For  my  beetles,  large  and  rare, 
And  I  pray  that  He  may  never  cease 

To  make  little  birds  his  care. 

What  do  you  say  to  God,  little  bird, 
When  the  April  showers  come  down, 

When  the  south  wind  moans  among  the  trees, 
And  the  stormy  heavens  frown  ? 

I  thank  him  for  drink,  and  for  feathers  warm, 

And  I  smooth  my  ruffled  coat, 
And  I'm  glad  I've  wings  to  cut  the  air, 

When  the  earth  is  all  afloat. 

But  what  do  you  say  all  this  time,  little  bird  ? 

For  your  voice  is  never  still ; 
And  in  forest  and  meadow  I  never  miss 

The  sound  of  your  happy  trill. 

I  can  never  sing  enough,  little  boy, 
When  my  little  ones  break  their  shell, 

And  my  tired  mate  chirps  with  joy  to  see 
Her  nurslings  all  hearty  and  well. 


24  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

I  can  never  sing  enough,  little  boy, 

I  was  only  made  to  sing ; 
As  I  can  not  work,  I'll  make  the  aisles 

Of  the  grand  old  forest  ring. 

But  better  far  is  the  music  of  deeds, 
Thinks  the  Father  that  dwelleth  above ; 

And,  while  he  provides  for  your  hourly  needs, 
Go,  labor  and  win  his  dear  love. 

Every  heart  that  you  lighten  shall  be,  little  boy, 
Far  gladder  than  my  morning  song, 

All  the  lips  that  you  tune  to  a  moment's  content, 
In  the  choirs  of  angels  belong. 


OUR  NATIVE  LAND. 

WE  come,  a  youthful,  happy  band, 

Rejoicing  in  our  native  land; 

A  rich  inheritance  we  claim, 

Our  fathers'  deeds,  our  fathers'  fame. 

In  other  lands,  we  read  in  story, 
Are  kings,  and  thrones ;  but  'tis  our  glory 
That  we  are  free — no  tyrant's  frown 
We  fear — no  man  who  wears  a  crown ! 

In  freedom's  cause  we'll  bravely  dare 
To  climb  the  steeps  of  fame,  and  share 
A  nation's  love — a  priceless  gem — 
Who  wins  it  wants  no  diadem  ! 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  25 


ALWAYS  LEARNING. 

WASTE  not  your  precious  hours  in  play, 
Nought  can  recall  life's  morning  : 
Good  seed  now  sown  will  cheer  your  way  ;  — 
The  wise  are  always  learning  ! 

Nor  think,  when  all  school-days  are  o'er, 
You've  bid  adieu  to  "  learning  ;  " 
Life's  deepest  lessons  are  in  store, 
The  meek  are  always  learning. 

When,  strong  in  hope,  you  first  launch  forth, 

A  name  intent  on  earning, 

Scorn  not  the  voice  of  age  or  worth, 

The  great  are  always  learning. 


right  and  wrong  within  you  strive, 
And  passions  fierce  contending, 
Oh,  then  you'll  know  how,  while  they  live, 
The  good  are  always  learning. 


DON'T  KILL  THE  BIRDS. 

DON'T  kill  the  birds — the  little  birds 
That  sing  about  your  door, 
Soon  as  the  joyous  Spring  has  come, 
And  chilling  storms  are  o'er. 
_ 


26  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

The  little  birds — how  sweet  they  sing, 
Oh,  let  them  joyous  live, 
And  do  not  seek  to  take  their  life, 
Which  you  can  never  give. 

Don't  kill  the  birds — the  pretty  birds 
That  play  among  the  trees  ; 
'Twould  make  the  earth  a  cheerless  place, 
To  see  no  more  of  these. 

The  little  birds — how  fond  they  play ; 
Do  not  disturb  their  sport, 
But  let  them  warble  forth  their  songs, 
Till  winter  cuts  them  short. 


MUTUAL  ASSISTANCE. 

A  MAN  very  lame 

Was  a  little  to  blame 

To  stray  for  from  his  humble  abode ; 

Hot,  thirsty,  bemircd, 

And  heartily  tired, 

He  laid  himself  down  in  the  road. 

While  thus  he  reclined, 

A  man  who  was  blind 

Came  by,  and  entreated  his  aid ; 

"  Deprived  of  my  sight, 

Unassisted  to  night, 

I  shall  not  reach  home,  I'm  afraid." 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  27 

a  Intelligence  give 

Of  the  place  where  you  live," 

Said  the  cripple,  "perhaps  I  may  know  it; 

In  my  road  it  may  be, 

And  if  you'll  carry  me, 

It  will  give  me  much  pleasure  to  show  it, 

"  Great  strength  you  have  got, 

Which,  alas !  I  have  not, 

In  my  legs  so  fatigued  every  nerve  is ; 

For  the  use  of  your  back, 

For  the  eyes  which  you  lack, 

My  pair  shall  be  at  your  service.*' 

Said  the  other  poor  man  : 

"  What  an  excellent  plan ! 

Pray  get  on  my  shoulders,  good  brother ; 

I  see  all  mankind, 

If  they  are  but  inclined, 

May  constantly  help  one  another." 


THE  BLIND- BOY. 

JUST  at  an  aged  birch  tree's  foot, 
A  little  boy  and  girl  reclined ; 
His  hand  in  hers  he  kindly  put — 
And  thon  I  saw  the  boy  was  blind. 


28  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

u  Dear  Mary,"  said  the  poor  blind  boy, 
"That  little  bird  sings  very  1  mg  ; 
Say,  do  you  see  him  in  his  joy,     . 
And  is  lie  pretty  as  his  song  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Edward,  yes,"  replied  the  maid, 
"  I  see  the  bird  on  yonder  tree ;  " 
The  poor  boy  sighed,  and  gently  said, 
"  Sister,  I  wish  that  I  could  see." 

"The  flowers  you  say  are  very  fair, 
And  bright  green  leaves  are  on  the  trees, 
And  pretty  birds  are  singing  there — 
How  beautiful  for  one  who  sees ! 

"  Yet  I  the  fragrant  flower  can  smell, 
And  I  can  feel  the  green  leaf's  shade, 
And  I  can  hear  the  notes  that  swell 
From  those  dear  birds  that  God  has  made. 

"  So,  sister,  God  to  me  is  kind, 
Though  sight,  alas  !  He  has  not  given ; 
;•  But  tell  me,  are  there  any  Hind, 
Among  the  children  up  in  heaven  ?  " 

"No,  dearest  Edward  ;  there  all  see; 
But  wherefore  ask  a  thing  so  odd  V  7> 
u  0,  Mary,  He's  so  good  to  me, 
I  thought  I'd  like  to  look  at  God." 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  29 


WHO  STOLE  THE  BIRD'S  1  JEST? 

To  whit!  to  whit!  to  wheel 
Will  you  listen  to  me  ? 
Who  stole  four  eggs  I  laid, 
And  the  nice  nest  I  made  ? 

Bob-a-link !  Bob-a-link ! 
Now  what  do  you  think  ? 
Who  stole  a  nest  away 
From  the  plum-tree  to-day  ? 

Not  T,  said  the  cow,  moo-oo ! 

Such  a  thing  I'd  never  do  ; 

I  gave  you  a  whisp  of  hay, 

And  did  not  take  your  nest  away  ;— 

Not  I,  said  the  cow,,  moo-oo ! 

Such  a  thing  I'd  never  do. 

Not  I,  said  the  dog,  bow-wow ! 
I  wouldn't  be  so  mean,  I  trow ; 
I  gave  the  hairs  the  nest  to  make, 
But  the  nest  I  didn't  take. 

Not  I,  said  the  sheep ;  0,  no, 
I  wouldn't  treat  a  bird  so ; 
I  gave  the  wool  the  nest  to  line, 
But  the  nest  was  none  of  mine. 
Baa,  baa!  said  the  sheep  ;   0,  no, 
I  wouldn't  treat  a  poor  bird  so. 

3* 


30  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Cluck,  cluck,  said  the  hen, 
Don't  ask  me  again. 
Why,  I  havn't  a  chick 
Would  do  such  a  trick. 
We  all  gave  her  a  feather, 
And  she  wove  them  together : 
I'd  scorn  to  intrude 
On  her  and  her  brood. 

Chirr-a- whirr !  Chirr-a- whirr ; 
We'll  make  a  great  stir ! 
Let  us  find  out  his  name, 
And  all  cry  for  shame. 

I  would  not  rob  a  bird, 
Said  little  Mary  Green; 
I  think  I  never  heard 
Of  any  thing  so  mean. 

JTis  very  cruel,  too, 

Said  little  Alice  Neal ; 

I  wonder  if  he  knew 

How  bad  the  bird  would  feel  ? 

A  little  boy  hung  down  his  head, 
And  went  and  hid  behind  the  bed ; 
For  he  stole  that  pretty  nest 
From  poor  little  yellow-breast ; 
And  he  felt  so  full  of  shame, 
He  didn't  like  to  tell  his  name. 


THE    LITTLE    CRATOR.  31 


A  TIM  FOB  ALL  THINGS. 

THERE  is  a  time  to  eat  and  drink, 

As  every  body  knows ; 
A  time  to  talk,  a  time  to  think, 

To  labor,  and  repose. 

There  is  a  time  to  laugh  and  play, 
Our  work  and  studies  done ; 

A  time  to  put  our  books  away, 
And  join  in  sport  and  fun. 

The  time  for  these  full  well  we  know 

And  seldom  then  forget ; 
But  we  have  other  things  to  do, 

Of  more  importance  yet. 

For  there's  a  time  to  think  on  God, 

And  holiness,  and  sin  ; 
A  time  to  seek  the  heavenly  road, 

And  search  our  hearts  within. 

There  is  a  time  to  seek  the  Lord, 
And  serve  him  while  we're  young ; 

A  time  to  read  his  holy  Word, 
And  praise  him  with  a  song. 


32  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

There  is  a  time  to  watch,  and  pray, 
And  lift  our  souls  to  God ; 

A  time  to  wash  our  sins  away; 
In  Christ's  atoning  blood. 

Then  let  us  use  each  hour  below, 
While  yet  we  have  the  power, 

That  we  may  be  prepared  to  go, 
Where  time  shall  be  no  more. 


THE  ITCUTES. 

WE  are  but  minutes — little  things ! 
Each  one  furnished  with  sixty  wings, 
With  which  we  fly  on  our  unseen  track, 
And  not  a  minute  ever  comes  back. 

We  are  but  minutes — yet  each  one  bears 
A  little  burden  of  joys  or  cares. 
Take  patiently  the  minutes  of  pain — 
The  worst  of  minutes  can  not  remain. 

We  are  but  minutes — when  we  bring 
A  few  of  the  drops  from  pleasure's  spring, 
Taste  their  sweetness  while  yet  we  stray- 
It  takes  but  a  minute  to  fly  away. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  33 

We  are  but  minutes — use  us  well — 
For  how  we  are  used  we  must  some  day  tell ; 
Who  uses  minutes,  has  hours  to  use — 
Who  loses  minutes,  whole  years  must  lose. 


L 


BROTHERLY  LOVE 

THE  God  of  heaven  is  pleased  to  see 
That  little  children  all  agree ; 
And  will  not  slight  the  praise  they  bring, 
When  loving  children  join  to  sing. 

For  love  and  kindness  please  him  more, 
Than  if  we  gave  him  all  our  store ; 
And  children  here,  who  dwell  in  love, 
Are  like  his  happy  ones  above. 

The  gentle  child,  who  tries  to  please, 
Dislikes  to  quarrel,  fret,  and  tease ; 
Who  would  not  say  an  angry  word — 
That  child  is  pleasing  to  the  Lord. 

0,  God  !  forgive,  whenever  we 
Forget  thy  will,  and  disagree ; 
And  grant  that  each  of  us  may  find 
The  sweet  delight  of  being  kind. 


34  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


"GIVE  IE  THREE  GRAINS  OF  CORN,  MOTHER."1 

GIVE  me  three  grains  of  cc  rn,  mother, 

Only  three  grains  of  corn ; 
It  will  keep  the  little  life  I  have 

Till  the  coming  of  the  morn. 
I  am  dying  of  hunger  and  cold,  mother, 

Dying  of  hunger  and  cold, 
And  half  the  agony  of  such  a  death 

My  lips  have  never  told. 

It  has  gnawed  like  a  wolf  at  my  heart,  mother, 

A  wolf  that  is  fierce  for  blood, 
All  the  livelong  day,  and  the  night  besides, 

Gnawing  for  lack  of  food. 
I  dreamed  of  bread  in  my  sleep,  mother, 

And  the  sight  was  heaven  to  see ; 
I  woke  with  an  eager,  famishing  lip, 

But  you  had  no  bread  for  me. 

How  could  I  look  to  you,  mother, 

How  could  I  look  to  you, 
For  bread  to  give  to  your  starving  boy, 

When  you  were  starving  too? 
For  I  read  the  famine  in  your  cheek, 

And  in  your  eyes  so  wild ; 
And  I  felt  it  in  your  bony  hand, 

As  you  laid  it  on  your  child. 


*  The  words  of  a  starving  Irish  lad  to  his  motfier. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR,  35 

Come  nearer  to  my  side,  mother, 

Come  nearer  to  my  side, 
And  hold  me  fondly,  as  you  held 

My  father,  when  he  died. 
Quick,  for  I  can  not  see  you,  mother ; 

My  breath  is  almost  gone. 
Mother,  dear  mother,  ere  I  die, 

Give  me  three  grains  of  corn. 


I  LOVE  THE  BIRDS. 

I  LOVE  to  see  the  little  birds, 

When  in  the  fields  I  rove; 
And  hear  them  sing  their  merry  songs, 

When  sitting  in  the  grove. 

The  little  birds  are  very  good ; 

As  kind  as  they  can  be ; 
They  often  come,  when  I  am  sad, 

And  sweetly  sing  to  me. 

And,  when  I  hear  their  happy  songs, 

My  sorrow  flies  away ; 
I  wish  I  had  a  little  bird, 

To  sing  for  me  all  day. 

Though  I  am  but  a  little  child, 
Quite  young,  and  very  small, 

I  love  the  happy,  merry  birds — 
0,  yes,  I  love  them  all ! 


36  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


IP  EYER  I  SEE. 

IP  ever  I  see, 

On  bush  or  tree, 
Young  birds  in  their  pretty  nests; 

I  must  not,  in  play, 

Steal  the  birds  away, 
To  grieve  their  mother's  breasi 

My  mother,  I  know, 

"Would  sorrow  so, 
Should  I  be  stolen  away ; 

So  I'll  speak  to  the  birds, 

In  my  softest  words, 
Nor  hurt  them  in  my  play. 


LITTLE  WILLIE  AND  THE  APPLE. 

LITTLE  Willie  stood  under  an  apple-tree  old, 
The  fruit  was  all  shining  with  crimson  and  gold, 
Hanging  temptingly  low — how  he  longed  for  a  bite, 
Though  he  knew  if  he  took  one  it  wouldn't  be  right 

Said  he :  "I  don't  see  why  my  father  should  say 

*  Don't  touch  the  old  apple-tree,  Willie,  to-day  ;7 

I  shouldn't  have  thought — now  they're  hanging  so 

low — 
When  I  asked  for  just  one  he  should  answer  me  'No.' 


THE    LITTLE     ORATOR.  3*7 


"  He  would  never  find  out  if  I  took  but  just  one, 
And  they  do  look  so  good,  shining  out  in  the  sun ; 
There  are  hundreds  and  hundreds,  and  he  wouldn't 

miss 
So  paltry  a  little  red  apple  as  this." 

He  stretched  forth  his  hand,  but  a  low,  mournful  strain 

Came  wandering  dreamily  over  his  brain  ; 

In  his  bosom  a  beautiful  harp  had  long  laid, 

That  the  angel  of  conscience  quite  frequently  played ; — 

And  he  sung :  "  Little  Willie,  beware,  Oh,  beware, 
Your  father  has  gone,  but  your  Maker  is  there ; 
How  sad  you  would  feel,  if  you  heard  the  Lord  say : 
4  This  dear  little  boy  stole  an  apple  to-day.' " 

Then  Willie  turned  round,  and  as  still  as  a  mouse 
Crept  slowly  and  carefully  into  the  house ; 
In  his  own  little  chamber  he  knelt  down  to  pray 
That  the  Lord  would  forgive  him,  and  please  not  to  say : 
"  Little  Willie  almost  stole  an  apple  to-day." 


"WHAT  HAVE  I?" 

I  HAVE  these  eyes,  these  beaming  eyes, 
Which  by  my  God  are  given, 

To  read  his  message  from  the  skies, 
And  see  his  face  in  heaven. 


38  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

I  have  a  voice,  a  pleasant  voice, 
Which  by  my  God  is  given, 

To  praise  him  here,  and  to  rejoice 
For  evermore  in  heaven. 

I  have  these  hands,  these  busy  hands, 
Which  by  my  God  are  given, 

To  do  whatever  he  commands, 
And  strike  my  harp  in  heaven. 

I  have  these  feet,  these  nimble  feet, 
Which  by  my  God  are  given, 

To  tread  his  paths  with  footstep  fleet, 
And  pace  the  courts  of  heaven.   ' 

I  have  a  soul,  a  precious  soul, 
Which  by  my  God  is  given, 

To  know  in  part,  but  not  in  whole, 
Until  it  gets  to  heaven. 

If  soul  and  body  thus  fulfill 

The  ends  for  which  they're  given, 

Death  parts  them  here,  but  soon  they  will 
Forever  meet  in  heaven. 


INFLUENCE. 

DROP  follows  drop,  and  swells 
With  rain  the  sweeping  river 

Word  follows  word,  and  tells 
A  truth  that  lives  forever. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  39 

Flake  follows  flake,  like  spirits, 
Whose  wings  the  winds  dissever; 

Thought  follows  thought,  and  lights 
The  realm  of  mind  forever. 

Beam  follows  beam,  to  cheer 

The  cloud  the  bolt  would  shiver; 

Throb  follows  throb,  and  fear 
Gives  place  to  joy  forever. 

The  drop,  the  flake,  the  beam, 

Teach  us  a  lesson  ever ; 
The  word,  the  thought,  the  dream, 

Impress  the  soul  forever. 


WISHES. 

0,  THAT  mine  eye  might  closed  be 

To  what  becomes  me  not  to  see  ; 

That  deafness  might  possess  mine  ear 

To  what  concerns  me  not  to  hear ; 

That  truth  my  tongue  might  always  tie 

From  ever  speaking  foolishly ; 

That  no  vain  thought  might  ever  rest, 

Or  be  conceived  within  my  breast ; 

That  by  each  word,  each  deed,  each  thought, 

Glory  may  to  my  God  be  brought. 

But  what  are  wishes  ?    Lord,  mine  eye 

On  thee  is  fixed ;  to  thee  I  cry ; 


40  THE    LITTLE  'ORATOR. 

0,  purge  out  all  my  dross,  my  sin, 
Make  me  more  white  than  snow  within : 
Wash,  Lord,  and  purify  my  heart, 
And  make  it  clean  in  every  part ; 
And,  when  'tis  clean,  Lord,  keep  it  so — 
For  that  is  more  than  I  can  do. 


LITTLE  BY  LITTLE. 

"  LITTLE  by  little,"  an  acorn  said, 

As  it  slowly  sunk  in  its  mossy  bed. 

"I  am  improving  every  day, 

Hidden  deep  in  the  earth  away." 

Little  by  little,  each  day  it  grew ; 

Little  by  little,  it  sipped  the  dew ; 

Downward  it  sent  out  a  thread-like  root ; 

Up  in  the  air  sprung  a  tiny  shoot. 

Day  after  day,  and  year  after  year, 

Little  by  little,  the  leaves  appear ; 

And  the  slender  branches  spread  far  and  wide, 

Till  the  mighty  oak  is  the  forest's  pride. 

Far  down  in  the  depths  of  the  dark,  blue  sea, 
An  insect  train  work  ceaselessly. 
Grain  by  grain,  they  are  building  well, 
Each  one  alone  in  its  little  cell. 
Moment  by  moment,  and  day  by  day, 
Never  stopping  to  rest  or  to  play. 
Rocks  upon  rocks  they  are  rearing  high, 
Till  the  top  looks  out  on  the  sunny  sky ; 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  41 

The  gentle  wind  and  the  balmy  air, 
Little  by  little,  bring  verdure  there ; 
Till  the  summer  sunbeams  gaily  smile 
On  the  buds  and  flowers  of  the  coral  isle. 

"  Little  by  little,"  said  a  thoughtful  boy, 
41  Moment  by  moment,  I'll  well  employ, 
Learning  a  little  every  day, 
And  not  spending  all  my  time  in  play ; 
And  still  this  rule  in  my  mind  shall  dwell, 
*  Whatever  I  do,  I  will  do  it  well.7 
Little  by  little,  I'll  learn  to  know 
The  treasured  wisdom  of  long  ago  • 
And,  one  of  these  days,  perhaps,  we'll  see 
That  the  world  will  be  the  better  for  me," 
And  do  not  you  think  that  this  simple  plan 
Made  him  a  wise  and  a  useful  man  ? 


NEATNESS. 

How  neatly  all  the  seeds  are  laid 

Within  the  ripening  pod ! 
•  How  carefully  the  cells  are  made ! 
This  is  the  work  of  God. 

The  lining  is  not  harsh,  nor  rough, 
But  soft,  or  polish'd  well ; 

Each  little  seed  has  room  enough 
Within  its  tiny  cell 


42  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

How  carefully  the  sides  are  closed 
Against  the  winds  and  rain ! 

For,  if  he  left  the  seeds  exposed, 
They  would  not  grow  again. 

There's  no  disorder  any  where 

In  what  my  Father  does ; 
He  condescends  to  make  with  care 

The  smallest  flower  that  grows. 

Let  children,  who  would  learn,  from  Him 

Neat  habits  seek  to  gain, 
Or  they  will  waste  much  precious  time, 

And  do  their  work  in  vain. 


'THE  YOUNG  ORATOR. 

YOU'D  scarce  expect  one  of  my  age 

To  speak  in  public,  on  the  stage ; 

And,  if  I  chance  to  fall  below 

Demosthenes  or  Cicero, 

Don't  view  me  with  a  critic's  eye, 

But  pass  my  imperfections  by. 

Large  streams  from  little  fountains  flow ; 

Tall  oaks  from  little  acorns  grow ; 

And,  though  I  now  am  small  and  young, 

Of  judgment  weak,  and  feeble  tongue, 

Yet  all  great,  learned  men,  like  me, 

Once  learned  to  read  their  A,  B,  0. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  43 

But  why  may  not  Columbia's  soil 

Rear  men  as  great  as  Britain's  isle  • 

Exceed  what  Greece  and  Rome  have  done, 

Or  any  land  beneath  the  sun? 

Mayn't  Massachusetts  boast  as  great 

As  any  other  sister  state  ? 

Or,  where's  the  town,  go  far  and  near, 

That  does  not  find  a  rival  here  ? 

Or,  where's  the  boy,  but  three  feet  high, 

Who's  made  improvement  more  than  I? 

These  thoughts  inspire  my  youthful  mind 

To  be  the  greatest  of  mankind ; 

Great,  not  like  Caesar,  stained  with  blood ; 

But,  like  Washington,  great  in  good. 


THE  MOUNTAIN  AND  THE  SQUIRREL. 

THE  Mountain  and  the  Squirrel 

Had  a  quarrel, 
And  the  former  call'd  the  latter  "Little  Prig." 

Bun  replied — 

"  You  are  doubtless  very  big ; 
But  all  sorts  of  things  and  weather 
Must  be  taken  in  together, 
To  make  up^  a  year 
And  a  sphere. 
And  I  think  it  no  disgrace 
To  occupy  my  place. 
If  I'm  not  so  huge  as  you, 


44  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

You  are  not  so  small  as  I, 
And  not  half  so  spry. 
I'll  not  deny  you  make 
A  very  pretty  squirrel- track. 
Talents  differ  :  all  is  well  and  wisely  put : 
If  I  can  not  carry  forests  on  my  back, 
Neither  can  you  crack  a  nut." 


THE  CHILD'S  PLEA. 

DEAR  father,  "  drink  no  more,"  I  pray, 

It  makes  you  look  so  sad  ; 
Come  home,  and  "  drink  no  more,"  I  say, 

'Twill  make  dear  mother  glad. 

Dear  father,  think  how  sick  youVe  been, 
What  aches  and  pains  you've  had! 

Oh,  "  drink  no  more,"  unless  you  mean 
To  drive  dear  mother  mad. 

Dear  father,  think  me  not  unkind, 

When  I  entreat  you  so ; 
Oh,  "  drink  no  more,"  and  then  you'll  find 

A  home  where'er  you  go. 

• 
Dear  father,  think  of  mother's  tears, 

How  oft  and  sad  they  flow ! 
Oh,  "  drink  no  more,"  then  will  her  fears 
No  longer  rack  her  so. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  45 

Dear  father,  think  what  would  become 

Of  me,  were  you  to  die ; 
Without  a  father,  or  a  home, 

Or  friend,  beneath  the  sky  I 

Dear  father,  do  not  turn  away, 

Nor  from  me  think  to  roam  ; 
Oh,  "  drink  no  more,"  by  night  or  day : 

Now  come,  let  us  go  home. 

Dear  father,  "  drink  no  more,"  I  pray, 

It  makes  you  look  so  sad ; 
Come  home,  and  "  drink  no  more,"  I  say, 

'Twill  make  that  home  so  glad. 

Thus  spake  in  tenderness  the  child  ; — 

The  drunkard's  heart  was  moved  ; 
He  signed  the  pledge,  he  wept,  he  smiled, 

And  kissed  the  boy  he  loved. 


BUSY  LITTLE  HUSBANDMAN. 

FM  a  little  husbandman, 
Work  and  labor  hard  I  can ; 
I'm  as  happy  all  the  day 
At  my  work  as  if  'twere  play  : 
Though  I've  nothing  fine  to  wear 
Yet  for  that  I  do  not  care. 


46  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

When  to  work  I  go  along, 
Singing  loud  my  morning  song, 
With  my  wallet  on  my  back, 
And  my  wagon- whip  to  crack, 
Oh,  I'm  thrice  as  happy,  then, 
As  the  idle  gentleman. 

IVe  a  hearty  appetite, 
And  I  soundly  sleep  at  night ; 
Down  I  lie  content,  and  say 
I've  been  useful  all  the  day : 
I'd  rather  be  a  ploughboy,  than 
A  useless  little  gentleman. 


THE  EXCELLENT  MAN. 

THEY  gave  me  advice  and  counsel  in  store ; 
Praised  me,  and  honored  me,  more  and  more  J 
Said  that  I  only  should  "wait  awhile" — 
Offered  their  patronage,  too,  with  a  smile. 

But,  with  all  their  honor  and  approbation, 
I  should,  long  ago,  have  died  of  starvation, 
Had  there  not  come  an  excellent  man, 
Who  bravely  to  help  me  along  began. 

Good  fellow !  he  got  me  the  food  I  ate ; 
His  kindness  and  care  I  shall  never  forget ; 
Yet  I  can  not  embrace  him,  though  other  folks  can, 
For  I  myself  am  that  excellent  man. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  47 


LITTLE  RAIN-DROPS. 

<(  0,  WHERE  do  you  come  from, 

You  little  drops  of  rain, 
Pitter-patter,  pitter-patter, 

Down  the  window-pane." 

"•They  won't  let  me  walk, 
And  they  won't  let  me  play, 

And  they  won't  let  me  go 
Out  of  doors  at  all  to-day." 

"They  put  away  my  playthings 

Because  I  broke  them  all, 
And  then  they  locked  up  all  my  tops 

And  took  away  my  ball." 

uTell  me,  little  rain-drops, 
Is  that  the  way  you  play  ? 

Pitter-p att e r ,  pi tt or- p atter, 
All  the  rainy  day  ? " 

"  They  say  I'm  very  naughty, 
But  I've  notlrng  else  to  do 

But  sit  here  at  the  window ; 
I  should  like  to  play  with  you." 


48  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

"The  little  rain-drops  can  not  speak; 

But  *  pitter-patter  pat ' 
Means,  '  we  can  play  on  this  side ; 

Why  can't  you  play  on  that  f ' " 


CLEON  AND  I. 

CLEON  hath  a  million  acres, 

Ne'er  a  one  have  I ; 
Cleon  dwelleth  in  a  palace, 

In  a  cottage,  I ; 
Cleon  hath  a  dozen  fortunes, 

Not  a  penny,  I ; 
But  the  poorer  of  the  twain  is 

Cleon,  and  not  I. 

Cleon,  true,  possesseth  acres, 

But  the  landscape  I ; 
Half  the  charms  to  me  it  yieldeth, 

Money  can  not  buy; 
Cleon  harbors  sloth  and  dullness, 

Freshening  vigor,  I ; 
He  in  velvet,  I  in  fustian, 

Richer  man  am  I. 

Cleon  is  a  slave  to  grandeur, 

Free  as  thought  am  I ; 
Cleon  fees  a  score  of  doctors, 

Need  of  none  have  I ; 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  49 

Wealth-surrounded,  care-environed, 

Cleon  fears  to  die; 
Death  may  come,  he'll  find  me  ready — 

Happier  man  am  I. 

Cleon  sees  no  charms  in  Nature, 

In  a  daisy,  I ; 
Cleon  hears  no  anthem  ringing 

In  the  sea  and  sky ; 
Nature  sings  to  me  forever, 

Earnest  listener,  I ; 
State  for  state,  with  all  attendants, 

Who  would  change  ? — Not  I. 


LITTLE  WILLIE. 

POOR  little  Willie, 

With  his  many  pretty  wiles ; 
Worlds  of  wisdom  in  his  looks, 

And  quaint,  quiet  smiles ; 
Hair  of  amber,  touched  with 

Gold  of  heaven  so  brave ; 
All  lying  darkly  hid 

In  a  work-house  grave. 

You  remember  little  Willie ; 

Fair  and  funny  fellow !  he 
Sprang  like  a  lily 

From  the  dirt  of  poverty 


50  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Poor  little  Willie ! 

Not  a  friend  was  nigh, 
When,  from  the  cold  world, 

He  crouched  down  to  die. 

In  the  day  we  wandered  foodless, 

Little  Willie  cried  for  bread ; 
In  the  night  we  wandered  homeless, 

Little  Willie  cried  for  bed. 
Parted  at  the  work-house  door, 

Not  a  word  we  said : 
Ah,  so  tired  was  poor  Willie, 

And  so  sweetly  sleep  the  dead. 

'Twas  in  the  dead  of  Winter 

We  laid  him  in  the  earth ; 
The  world  brought  in  the  New  Year, 

On  a  tide  of  mirth. 
But,  for  lost  little  Willie, 

Not  a  tear  we  crave ; 
Cold  and  hunger  can  not  wake  him, 

In  his  work-house  grave. 

We  thought  him  beautiful, 

Felt  it  hard  to  part ; 
We  loved  him  dutiful ; 

Down,  down,  poor  heart ! 
The  storms  they  may  beat ; 

The  Winter  winds  may  rave ; 
Little  Willie  feels  not, 

In  his  work-house  grave. 


THE    LITTLK    ORATOR.  51 

No  room  for  little  Willie ; 

In  the  world  he  had  no  part ; 
On  him  stared  the  Gorgon  eyes, 

Thro'  which  looks  no  heart. 
Come  to  me,  said  Heaven ; 

And,  if  Heaven  will  save, 
Little  matters  though  the  door 

Be  a  work-house  grave. 


WHY  YIELD  TO  GRIEF. 

TWAS  when  the  seas,  with  hideous  roar, 

A  little  bark  assailed, 
And  potent  fear,  with  awful  power, 

O^er  each  on  board  prevailed — 

Save  one — the  captain's  darling  child — 
"Who  fearless  view'd  the  storm, 

And  playful,  with  composure  smiled 
At  danger's  threatening  form — 

"Why  sporting  thus?"  a  seaman  cried, 
"  When  sorrows  overwhelm  ?  " 

"Why  yield  to  grief,"  the  boy  replied — • 
"  My  father's  at  the  helm  ?  " 


52  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


A  THOUGHTLESS  IAN. 

THERE  came  to  my  window, 

One  morning  in  spring, 
A  sweet  little  robin  ; 

She  came  there  to  sing; 
And  the  tune  that  she  sung 

Was  prettier  far 
Than  ever  I  heard 

On  the  flute  or  guitar. 

She  raised  her  light  wings 

To  soar  far  away, 
Then  resting  a  moment, 

Seemed  sweetly  to  say, 
u  0,  happy,  how  happy 

This  world  seems  to  be ; 
Awake,  little  girl, 

And  be  -happy  with  me." 

But,  just  as  she  finished 

Her  beautiful  song, 
A  thoughtless  young  man 

With  a  gun  came  along. 
He  killed  and  he  carried 

My  sweet  bird  away, 
And  she  no  more  will  sing 

At  the  dawn  of  the  day. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  53 


WHAT  WILL  THE  HARVEST  BE? 

THEY  are  sowing  their  seed  in  the  daylight  fair, 
They  are  sowing  their  seed  in  the  noonday's  glare, 
They  are  sowing  their  seed  in  the  soft  twilight, 
They  are  sowing  their  seed  in  the  solemn  night ; — 
What  shall  their  harvest  be  ? 

They  are  sowing  their  seed  of  pleasant  thought, 
In  the  spring's  green  light  they  have  blithely  wrought ; 
They  have  brought  their  fancies  from  wood  and  dell, 
Where  the  mosses  creep  and  the  flower -buds  swell ; — 
Rare  shall  the  harvest  be. 

They  are  sowing  the  seed  of  word  and  deed, 
Which  the  cold  know  not,  nor  the  careless  heed, 
Of  the  gentle  word  and  the  kindest  deed, 
That  have  blest  the  heart  in  its  sorest  need ; — 
Sweet  shall  the  harvest  be. 

And  some  are  sowing  the  seeds  of  pain, 
Of  late  remorse  and  a  maddened  brain, 
And  the  stars  shall  fall*,  and  the  sun  shall  wane, 
Ere  they  root  the  weeds  from  the  soil  again ; — 
Dark  will  the  harvest  be. 

And  some  are  standing  with  idle  hand, 
Yet  they  scatter  seed  on  their  native  land ; 
And  some  are  sowing  the  seeds  of  care, 
Which  their  soil  hath  borne  and  still  must  bear ; — 
Sad  will  the  harvest  be. 


54  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

They  are  sowing  the  seed  of  noble  deed, 
With  a  sleepless  watch  and  an  earnest  heed  ; 
With  a  ceaseless  hand  o'er  the  earth  they  sow, 
And  the  fields  are  whitening  where'er  they  go  ;— 
Kich  will  the  harvest  be. 

Sown  in  darkness,  or  sown  in  light, 
Sown  in  weakness,  or  sown  in  might, 
Sown  in  meekness,  or  sown  in  wrath, 
In  the  broad  work-field,  or  the  shadowy  path — 
Sure  will  the  harvest  be. 


THE  LITTLE  ORATOR.* 

PRAY,  how  shall  I,  a  little  lad, 

In  speaking  make  a  figure  ? 
You're  only  joking,  I'm  afraid, 

Do  wait  till  I  am  bigger. 

"But,  since  you  wish  to  hear  my  part, 

And  urge  me  to  begin  it, 
I'll  strive  for  praise,  with  all  my  heart, 

Though  small  the  hope  to  win  it 

I'll  tell  a  tale,  how  farmer  John 

A  little  roan  colt  bred,  sir, 
And  every  night  and  every  morn, 

He  watered  and  he  fed,  sir. 

*  First  spoken  by  Edwnrd  Everett,  when  a  lad,  for  whom  they  were 
written,  by  his  minister,  Rev.  T.  M.  Harris. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  55 

Said  neighbor  Joe  to  farmer  John, 

"  Arn't  you  a  silly  dolt,  sir, 
To  spend  such  time  and  care  upon 

A  little,  useless  colt,  sir?" 

Said  farmer  John  to  neighbor  Joe, 

"  I  bring  my  little  roan  up, 
Not  for  the  good  he  now  can  do, 

But  will  do,  when  he's  grown  up." 

The  moral  you  can  well  espy, 

To  keep  the  tale  from  spoiling, 
The  little  colt,  you  think,  is  I — 

I  know  it  by  your  smiling. 

And  now,  my  friends,  please  to  excuse 

My  lisping  and  my  stammers ; 
I,  for  this  once,  have  done  my  best, 

And  so  I'll  make  my  manners. 


RULES  OF  SCHOOL. 

I  SHOULD  come  early  every  day, 
And  all  my  teacher's  rules  obey : 
Be  here  before  the  school  begins, 
And  silent  when  the  signal  rings. 

My  clothes  and  person  should  be  neat ; 
I  should  not  mar  my  desk  nor  seat ; 
My  books  I  should  not  soil  nor  tear 
Nor  aught  about  the  room  impair. 


56  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

I  should  not  whisper,  talk,  nor  play, 
Nor  idly  while  my  time  away ; 
But  learn  my  lessons,  well  and  fast, 
For  soon  my  school-days  will  be  past 

I  should  not  quarrel,  swear,  nor  lie, 
Tell  tales,  deceive,  nor  angry  be ; 
Nor  do  to  others,  things  that  I 
Should  hate  to  have  them  do  to  me. 


AMBITION,  FALSE  AND  TRUE. 

I  WOULD  not  wear  the  warrior's  wreath ; 

I  wrould  not  court  his  crown  ; 
For  love  and  virtue  sink  beneath 

His  dark  and  vengeful  frown. 

I  would  not  seek  my  fame  to  build 

On  glory's  dizzy  hight; 
Her  temple  is  with  orphan's  filled ; 

Blood  soils  her  scepter  bright. 

I  would  not  wear  the  diadem, 

By  folly  prized  so  dear ; 
For  want  and  woe  have  bought  each  gem, 

And  every  pearl's  a  tear. 

I  would  not  heap  the  golden  chest, 

That  sordid  spirits  crave ; 
For  every  gain — by  penury  cursed — 

Is  gathered  from  the  grave. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  57 

No ;  let  my  wreath  unsullied  be ; 

My  fame  be  virtuous  youth ; 
My  wealth  be  kindness,  chanty; 

My  diadem,  be  truth. 


KEEP  TO  THE  EIGHT. 

% 

"  KEEP  to  the  right,"  as  the  law  directs, 
For  such  is  the  law  of  the  road  ; 

Keep  to  the  right,  whoever  expects 
Securely  to  carry  Life's  load. 

Keep  to  the  right  with  God  and  the  world, 
Nor  wander,  though  folly  allures  ; 

Keep  to  the  right,  nor  ever  be  hurled 
From  what  by  the  statute  is  yours. 

Keep  to  the  right,  within  and  without — 
With  stranger,  and  kindred,  and  friend ; 

Keep  to  the  right,  nor  harbor  a  doubt 
That  all  will  be  well  in  the  end. 

Keep  to  the  right,  whatever  you  do, 
Nor  claim  but  your  own  on  the  way ; 

Keep  to  the  right,  and  stick  to  the  true, 
From  morn  till  the  close  of  the  day. 


58  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


THE  SQUIRREL 

THE  squirrel  hastens  to  and  fro, 

With  acorn,  nut,  and  corn, 
His  cell  to  fill ;  he's  much  to  do, 

For  winter's  coming  on. 

He  does  not  stop  for  friends  or  foes, 

Until  his  work  is  done  ; 
He  needs  no  telling,  well  he  knows 

Cold  winter's  coming  on. 

His  store-house,  filled  with  all  that's  good, 

His  eye  looks  proudly  on ; 
Then  chatters  forth,  throughout  the  wood— 

"Now  let  cold  winter  come." 

Come,  schoolmates,  like  the  squirrel  try, 

In  life's  bright,  sunny  morn, 
To  seek  a  good,  a  rich  supply, 

Before  old  age  comes  on. 

Lay  up  a  store  of  luxuries  rare, 

To  feast  the  mind  upon  ; 
Undaunted,  then,  you'll  have  no  fear, 

When  wintry  age  comes  on. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  59 


A  LESSON  OF  LOYE. 

"  LITTLE  children,  love  each  other ; 

Kind,  and  good,  and  gentle  be : 
Brother  should  be  kind  to  brother, 

Sisters  should  in  love  agree. 
Love  your  playmates,  try  to  please  them ; 

Let  no  thing  be  said  or  done, 
Which  would  hurt,  or  vex,  or  tease  them, 

Or  would  injure  any  one. 

"  Quarrel  not,  but  love  each  other, 

And  be  ready  to  forgive ; 
Let  each  sister  and  each  brother 

Seek  in  love  and  peace  to  live. 
Not,  in  word  or  tongue  love  merely, 

But  in  deed,  with  heart  and  mind ; 
Show  you  love  them  truly,  dearly  ; 

Both  in  word  and  act  be  kind. 

"  Little  children !  love  each  other ; 

Show  true  love  to  great  and  small ; 
Love  your  father  and  your  mother, 

And  love  God  the  most  of  all. 
God  is  love ;  and  He  has  told  you, 

If  you  try  to  live  in  love, 
Then  will  He  with  love  behold  you, 

And  will  bless  you  from  above." 


60  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


THE  TEMPEST. 

WE  were  crowded  in  the  cabin, 
Not  a  soul  would  dare  to  sleep ; — 
It  was  midnight  on  the  waters, 
And  a  storm  was  on  the  deep. 

*Tis  a  fearful  thing  in  winter 
To  be  shattered  in  the  blast, 
And  to  hear  the  rattling  trumpet 
Thunder,  "Cut  away  the  mast!" 

So  we  shuddered  there  in  silence — 
For  the  stoutest  held  his  breath, 
While  the  hungry  sea  was  roaring, 
And  the  breakers  talked  with  Death. 

And  thus  we  sat  in  darkness, 
Each  one  busy  in  his  prayers ; 
"  We  are  lost !  "  the  captain  shouted, 
As  he  staggered  down  the  stairs. 

But  his  little  daughter  whispered, 
As  she  took  his  icy  hand, 
"  Isn't  God  upon  the  ocean, 
Just  the  same  as  on  the  land!  " 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  61 


Then  we  kissed  the  little  maiden, 
And  we  spoke  in  better  cheer, 
And  we  anchored  safe  in  harbor, 
When  the  morn  was  shining  clear. 


LINES  FOR  AN  EXHIBITION. 

KIND  friends,  and  dear  parents,  we  welcome  you  here, 
To  our  nice  pleasant  school-room,  and  teachers  so  dear ; 
We  wish  but  to  show  you  how  much  we  have  learned, 
And  how  to  our  lessons  our  hearts  have  been  turned. 

But  we  hope  you'll  remember  we  all  are  quite  young, 
And,  when  we  have  spoken,  recited,  and  sung, 
You  will  pardon  our  blunders,  which,  as  all  are  aware, 
May  even  extend  to  the  President's  chair. 

We  seek  your  approval  with  hearty  good  will, 
And  hope  the  good  lessons  our  teachers  instill 
May  make  us  submissive,  and  gentle,  and  kind, 
As  well  as  enlighten  and  strengthen  the  mind. 

For  learning,  we  know,  is  more  precious  than  gold, 
But  the  worth  of  the  heart's  jewels  ne'er  can  be  told ; 
We'll  strive,  then,  for  virtue,  truth,  honor,  and  love, 
And  thus  lay  up  treasures  in  mansions  above. 


6 


62  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


Our  life  is  a  school-time ;  and,  till  that  shall  end, 
With  our  Father  in  heaven  for  teacher  and  friend, 
0 !  let  us  perform  well  each  task  that  is  given, 
Till  our  time  of  probation  is  ended  in  heaven. 


CHILDISH  WISDOM. 

'TwAS  the  hour  of  prayer,  and  the  farmer  stood, 

With  a  thankful  heart,  and  a  lowly  mind, 
And  prayed  to  the  Author  of  every  good, 

That  the  Father  of  all  would  be  very  kind, 
And  bless  his  creatures  with  raiment  and  food ; 
That  the  blessing  each  day  might  'be  renewed, 
That  every  want  might  find  relief, 
And  plenty  for  hunger,  joy  for  grief, 
Be  measured  out,  by  the  merciful  One, 
To  all  who  suffered  teneath  the  sun. 

The  prayer  concluded,  the  godly  man 
Went  forth  in  peace  to  inspect  his  farm; 

And  by  his  side  delighted  ran, 

Glowing  with  every  healthful  charm, 

His  little  son,  a  sprightly  boy, 

Whose  home  was  love,  and  whose  life  was  joy; 

And  they  rambled  over  the  golden  fields, 

And  the  father  said,  uThe  harvest  yields 

A  plentiful  crop,  my  son,  this  year ; 

My  barns  are  too  small  for  the  grain,  I  fear." 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  63 

And  they  wandered  on,  through  row  upon  row 

Of  plumy  leaves,  and  at  length  the  child, 
With  earnest  look,  and  a  rosy  glow 

On  his  shining  cheek,  looked  up  and  smiled, 
And  said,  "  My  father,  do  you  not  pray 
For  the  poor  and  needy,  day  by  day, 
That  God,  the  good,  would  the  hungry  feed  ?" 
"I  do,  my  son."     "Well,  I  think,  as  you  plead" — 
His  eye  waxed  bright,  for  Jiis  soul  shone  through  it — 
"That  God,  if  he  had  your  wheat,  would  do  it." 


A  MOTHER'S  LOVE.- 

HAST  thou  sounded  the  depths  of  yonder  sea, 
And  counted  the  sands  that  under  it  be? 
Hast  thou  measured  the  hight  of  heaven  above  ? 
Then  may'st  thou  mete  out  a  mother's  love. 

Hast  thou  talked  with,  the  blessed  of  leading  on 
To  the  throne  of  God  some  wandering  son? 
Hast  thou  witnessed  the  angels'  bright  employ? 
Then  may'st  thou  speak  of  a  mother's  joy. 

There  is  not  a  grand,  inspiring  thought, 
There  is  not  a  truth  by  wisdom  taught, 
There  is  not  a  feeling,  pure  and  high, 
That  may  not  be  read  in  a  mother's  eye. 


64  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

There  are  teachings  on  earth,  and  sky,  and  air; 

The  heavens  the  glory  of  God  declare ; 

But  louder  than  voice,  beneath,  above, 

He  is  heard  to  speak  through  a  mother's  love. 


ONE  GOOD  TURN  DESERVES  ANOTHER. 

WILL  Wag  went  to  see  Charley  Quirk,     * 

More  famed  for  his  books  than  his  knowledge, 

In  order  to  borrow  a  work 

He  had  sought  for  in  vain  over  college. 

But  Charley  replied,  "  My  dear  friend, 
You  must  know  I  have  sworn  and  agreed 

My  books  from  my  room  not  to  lend — 
But  you  may  sit  ~by  my  fire  and  read" 

Now  it  happened,  by  chance,  on  the  morrow, 
That  Quirk,  with  a  cold,  quivering  air, 

Came  his  neighbor  Will's  bellows  to  borrow, 
For  his  own  they  were  out  of  repair. 

But  Willy  replied,  uMy  dear  friend, 

I  have  sworn  and  agreed,  you  must  know, 

That  my  bellows  I  never  will  lend — 
But  you  may  sit  by  my  fire  and  blow" 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  65 


COMMON  SENSE. 

SHE  came  among  the  gathering  crowd, 
A  maiden  fair,  without  pretense, 
And,,  when  they  asked  her  humble  name, 
She  whispered  mildly — "  Common  Sense." 

Her  modest  garb  drew  ev*ry  eye, 
Her  ample  cloak,  her  shoes  of  leather ; 
And,  when  they  sneered,  she  simply  said, 
"/dress  according  to  the  weather." 

They  argued  long,  and  reasoned  loud, 
In  dubious  Hindoo  phrase  mysterious, 
While  she,  poor  child,  could  not  divine 
Why  girls  so  young  should  be  so  serious. 

They  knew  the  length  of  Plato's  beard, 
And  how  the  scholars  wrote  in  Saturn ; 
She  studied  authors  not  so  deep, 
And  took  the  Bible  for  her  pattern. 

And  so  she  said,  "Excuse  me,  friends  ; 
I  find  all  have  their  proper  places, 
And  Common  Sense  should  stay  at  home, 
With  cheerful  hearts  and  smiling  faces." 

6* 
I 


66  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


THE  MATCH  BOYS. 

ARE  all  your  matches  sold,  Tom? 

Are  all  your  matches  done  ? 
Then  let  us  to  the  open  square, 

To  warm  us  in  the  sun — 
To  warm  us  in  the  sweet,  kind  sun, 

To  feel  his  kindling  glow; 
For  his  kind^ooks  are  the  only  looks 

Of  kindness,  that  we  know. 

We'll  call  the  sun  our  father,  Tom ; 

We'll  call  the  sun  our  mother ; 
We'll  call  each  pleasant  little  beam 

A  sister  or  a  brother. 
He  thinks  no  shame  to  kiss  us, 

Although  we  ragged  go ; 
For  his  kind  looks  are  the  only  looks 

Of  kindness,  that  we  know. 

We'll  rest  us  on  the  grass,  Tom ; 

We'll  upward  turn  our  face ; 
We'll  lock  his  heat  within  our  arms — 

Our  arms,  in  fond  embrace ; 
We'll  give  him  a  sad,  parting  tear 

When  he  is  sinking  low ; 
For  his  kind  looks  are  the  only  looks 

Of  kindness,  that  we  know. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  67 

We'll  tell  him  all  our  sorrows,  Tom  • 

We'll  tell  him  all  our  care ; 
We'll  tell  him  where  we  sleep  at  night ; 

We'll  tell  him  how  we  fare  : 
And  then,  Oh  then,  to  cheer  us, 

How  sweetly  he  will  glow  ; 
For  his  kind  looks  are  the  only  looks 

Of  kindness,  that  we  know. 


BOTH  SIDES. 

A  MAN  in  his  carriage  was  riding  along, 

A  gaily  dressed  wife  by  his  side ; 
In  satin  and  laces  she  looked  like  the  queen, 

And  he  like  a  king  in  his  pride. 

A  wood-sawyer  stood  on  the  street  as  they  passed ; 

The  carriage  and  couple  he  eyed ; 
And  said,  as  he  worked  with  his  saw  on  the  log, 

"I  wish  I  was  rich  and  could  ride." 

The  man  in  the  carriage  remarked  to  his  wife, 
"  One  thing  I  would  give  if  I  could — 

I'd  give  my  wealth  for  the  strength  and  the  health 
Of  the  man  who  sawed  the  wood." 

A  pretty  young  maid,  with  a  bundle  ol  work, 
Whose  face,  as  the  morning,  was  fair, 

Went  tripping  along,  with  a  smile  of  delight, 
While  humming  a  love-breathing  air. 


68  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

She  Ipoked  on  the  carriage ;  the  lady  she  saw, 

Arrayed  in  apparel  so  fine, 
And  said,  in  a  whisper,  "  I  wish  from  my  heart 

Those  satins  and  laces  were  mine." 

The  lady  looked  out  on  the  maid  with  her  work 

So  fair  in  her  calico  dress, 
And  said,  "I'd  relinquish  position  and  wealth, 

Her  beauty  and  health  to  possess." 

Thus  it  is  in  the  world,  whatever  our  lot, 
Our  minds  and  our  time  we  employ 

In  longing  and  sighing  for  what  we  have  not, 
Ungrateful  for  what  we  enjoy. 

We  welcome  the  pleasure  for  which  we  have  sigh'd, 

The  heart  has  a  void  in  it  still, 
Growing  deeper  and  wider  the  longer  we  livey 

That  nothing  but  Heaven  can  fill. 


A  LAY  FROM  MY  POULTRY  YARD. 

I  HAD  a  flock  of  chickens, 

The  sweetest  little  things ! 
-With  tiny  coats  of  creamy  down, 

And  little  bits  of  wings ; 
And  bills  like  finest  ivory, 

From  Indian  jungles  brought, 
And  slender,  polished  legs  that  seemed 

Cornelian,  finely  wrought 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  69 

How  pretty  their  bright,  beady  eyes, 

And  cunning,  sidelong  peep, 
As,  'neath  their  clucking  mother's  wings, 

They  nestled  down  to  sleep ! 
How  sweet  their  chirping  twitter, 

As  they  clustered  at  her  side ! 
How  nimbly,  on  her  slippery  back, 

.They  hopped  up  for  a  ride ! 

How -daintily  he  seemed  to  pick 

The  crumbs  I  loved  to  scatter  I 
How  prettily  they  used  to  sip 

The  water  from  the  platter! 
Ah !  it  would  take  the  graphic  pen 

Of  Hawthorne  or  of  Dickens, 
To  picture  half  the  beauties 

Of  my  charming  little  chickens. 

I  fixed  for  them  a  cozy  coop, 

To  shield  them  from  the  storm, 
And  made  a  nest  of  softest  hay, 

To  keep  them  snug  and  warm ; 
But  "  ever  thus,  from  childhood's  hour, 

Our  fondest  hopes  decay ;  " 
I  would  there  were  as  much  of  truth 

In  half  the  poets  say ! 

Ah !  vain  were  all  my  tender  careJ 
Wild  March,  with  stormy  breath, 

Breathed  on  my  little  nurslings — 
Three  slept  the  sleep  of  death ; 


70  .    THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

And  three  of  those  stern  March  had  spared, 

In  one  sad,  baleful  hour, 
A  wicked,  cruel,  murderous  cat 

Did  ruthlessly  devour. 

More  earnestly  the  rest  I  strove 
To  shield  from  hurt  or  harm, 

And  fortune  seemed  to  favor  me—- 
The air  grew  soft  and  warm  : 

I  deemed  them  safe,  when,  one  by  one, 
To  crown  the  sad  mishaps, 

The  remnant  of  my  little  flock 
Fell  victims  to  the  "gapes." 

Alas !  alas  !   all  words  seem  vain 

To  picture  my  dismay  ; 
And  vainer  still,  poor  mother  hen, 

Thy  sorrow  to  portray ; 
A  voiceless,  tearless  Niobe, 

By  fate's  fell  arrows  stricken — 
Thou  standest  by  the  empty  coop, 

Bereft  of  every  chicken ! 

No  need  for  me,  at  morn  or  eve, 

The  dainty  crumbs  to  bring ; 
No  need  for  ihee,  poor  lonely  hen, 

To  spread  thy  sheltering  wing. 
I  gaze  around,  and  o'er  my  eye 

A  dewy  dimness  thickens, 
And  with  a  wailing  voice  I  cry, 

My  chickens  !  0,  my  chickens  ! 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  7l 


BE  FIRM. 

BE  firm !  whatever  tempts  thy  soul 
To  loiter  ere  it  reach  its  goal ; 
Whatever  syren  voice  would  draw 
Thy  heart  from  duty  and  its  law, 
Oh  that  distrust !     Go  bravely  on, 
And,  till  the  victor-crown  be  won, 
Be  firm! 

Firm  when  thy  conscience  is  assailed ; 
Firm  when  the  star  of  hope  is  veiled ; 
Firm  in  defying  wrong  and  sin  ; 
Firm  in  life's  conflict,  toil,  and  din ; 
Firm  in  the  path  by  martyrs  trod — 
And  oh,  in  love  to  man  and  God, 
BE  FIRM. 


ROBERT  OF  LINCOLN. 

MERRILY  swinging  on  brier  and  weed, 

Near  the  nest  of  his  little  dame, 
Over  the  mountain-side  or  mead, 

Robert  of  Lincoln  is  telling  his  name : 
Bob-o'-15nk,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink ; 
Snug  and  safe  is  that  nest  of  ours, 
Hidden  among  the  summer  flowers, 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 


72  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Robert  of  Lincoln  is  gaily  drest, 

Wearing  a  bright  black  wedding  coat ; 
White  are  his  shoulders,  and  white  his  crest, 
Hear  him  call  in  his  merry  note : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink; 
Look,  what  a  nice  new  coat  is  mine, 
Sure  there  was  never  a  bird  so  fine, 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

Robert  of  Lincoln's  Quaker  wife, 

Pretty  and  quiet,  with  plain  brown  wings, 
Passing  at  home  a  patient  life, 

Broods  in  the  grass  while  her  husband  sings  : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink; 
Brood,  kind  creature  ;  you  need  not  fear 
Thieves  and  robbers  while  I  am  here ; 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

Modest  and  shy  as  a  nun  is  she, 

One  weak  chirp  is  her  only  note ; 
Braggart  and  prince  of  braggarts  is  he, 
Pouring  boasts  from  his  little  throat : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink ; 
Never  was  I  afraid  of  man ; 
Catch  me,  cowardly  knaves,  if  you  can  ; 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  73 

Six  white  eggs,  on  a  bed  of  hay, 

Flecked  with  purple,  a  pretty  sight  1 
Ihere,  as  the  mother  sits  all  day, 
Robert  is  singing  with  all  his  might : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink ; 
Nice  good  wife,  that  never  goes  out, 
Keeping  house  while  I  frolic  about ; 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 


Soon  as  the  little  ones  chip  the  shell, 

Six  wide  mouths  are  open  for  food ; 
Robert  of  Lincoln  bestirs  him  well, 
Gathering  seeds  for  the  hungry  brood. 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink ; 
This  new  life  is  likely  to  be 
Hard  for  a  gay  young  fellow  like  me ; 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 

Robert  of  Lincoln  at  length  is  made 

Sober  with  work,  and  silent  with  care  j 
Off  is  his  holiday-garment  laid, 
Half  forgotten  that  merry  air : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink ; 
Nobody  knows,  but  my  mate  and  I, 
Where  our  nest  and  our  nestlings  lie  ; 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 


74  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Summer  wanes ;  the  children  are  grown ; 

Fun  and  frolic  no  more  he  knows ; 
Robert  of  Lincoln's  a  humdrum  crone ; 
Off  he  flies,  and  we  sing  as  he  goes  : 
Bob-o'-link,  bob-o'-link, 
Spink,  spank,  spink; 

When  you  can  pipe  that  merry  old  strain, 
Robert  of  Lincoln,  come  back  again ; 
Chee,  chee,  chee. 


WHAT  MAKES  ME  HAPPIEST? 

WHAT  is  it  makes  me  happiest? 

Is  it  my  last  new  play  ? 
Is  it  my  bounding  ball  or  hoop 

I  follow  every  day  ? 

Is  it  my  puzzles,  or  my  blocks? 

My  pleasant  solitaire? 
My  dolls,  my  kitten,  or  my  books? 

My  flowers,  fresh  and  fair? 

What  is  it  makes  me  happiest? 

It  is  not  one  of  these ; 
Yet  they  are  treasures  dear  to  me, 

And  never  fail  to  please. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  75 

Oh,  it  is  looks  and  tones  of  love, 

From  those  I  love  the  best, 
That  follow  me  when  I  do  right ; 

These  make  me  happiest ! 


"MY  MOTHER'S  DEAD:" 

FM  very,  very  lonely, 

Alas,  I  can  not  play  ; 
I  am  so  sad,  I  sit  and  weep 

Throughout  the  livelong  day. 
I  miss  dear  mother's  welcome, 

Her  light  hand  on  my  head, 
Her  look  of  love,  her  tender  word ; 

Alas,  my  mother's  dead ! 

I  have  no  heart  to  play  alone ; 

To-day  I  thought  I'd  try, 
And  got  my  little  hoop  to  roll, 

But  ah,  it  made  me  cry ; 
For  who  will  smile  to  see  me  come, 

Now  mother  dear  has  gone, 
And  look  so  kindly  in  my  face, 

And  kiss  her  little  son  ? 

I'll  get  my  blessed  Bible, 
And  sit  me  down  and  read ; 

My  mother  said  that  precious  book 
Would  prove  a  friend  in  need. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


I  seem  to  see  dear  mother  now, 
To  hear  her  voice  of  love ; 

She  may  be  looking  down  on  me, 
From  her  bright  home  above. 

She  said  that  I  must  come  to  her — 

She  can  not  come  to  me : 
Our  Father,  teach  a  little  one 

How  he  may  come  to  thee. 
For  I  am  very  lonely  now ; 

Our  Father,  may  I  come, 
And  join  my  mother  in  the  skies? 

And  heaven  shall  be  our  home. 


LITTLE  THINGS. 

LITTLE  drops  of  water,  little  grains  of  sand, 
Make  the  boundless  ocean  and  the  beauteous  land, 
And  the  little  moments,  humble  though  they  be, 
Make  the  mighty  ages  of  eternity. 
So  our  little  errors  lead  the  soul  astray, 
From  the  paths  of  virtue,  oft  in  sin  to  stray ; 
Little  deeds  of  kindness,  little  words  of  love, 
Make  our  earth  an  Eden,  like  the  heaven  above ; 
Little  deeds  of  mercy,  sown  by  infant  hands, 
Grow  to  bless  the  nations,  far  in  heathen  lands. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  77 


THE  GIANT. 

THERE  came  a  giant  to  my  door, 

A  giant  fierce  and  strong, 
His  step  was  heavy  on  the  floor, 

His  arms  were  ten  yards  long. 
He  scowl'd  and  frown'd ;  he  shook  the  ground : 

I  trembled  through  and  through ;— - 
At  length  I  lookYl  him  in  the  face, 

And  cried,  "  Who  cares  for  you  ?  " 

The  mighty  giant,  as  I  spoke, 

Grew  pale,  and  thin,  and  small ; 
And  through  his  body,  as  'twere  smoke, 

I  saw  the  sunshine  fall. 
His  blood-red  eyes  turn'd  blue  as  skies, 

He  whisper'd  soft  and  low. 
uls  this,"  I  cried,  with  growing  pride, 

uls  this  the  mighty  foe?  " 

He  sunk  before  my  earnest  face, 

He  vanish'd  quite  away, 
And  left  no  shadow  on  his  place 

Between  me  and  the  day. 
Such  giants  come  to  strike  us  dumb — 

But,  weak  in  every  part, 
They  melt  before  the  strong  man's  eyes, 

And  fly  the  true  of  heart. 


7* 


78  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


TIME. 

THE  watch  is  ticking,  ticking, 
Ticking  my  minutes  away ; 

And  minutes  make  up  the  hours, 
And  hours  make  up  the  day. 

The  clock  is  striking,  striking 
The  hours,  so  loud  and  clear ; 

The  hours  make  up  the  day, 
And  the  days  make  up  the  year. 

The  bell  is  tolling,  tolling 
For  one  whose  day  is  done ; 

To  where  time  is  known  no  longer, 
That  weary  soul  has  gone. 

And  soon  'twill  toll  for  me ; 

And  then  my  home  will  be 

Where  the  watch  ticks  no  more, 
And  the  clock  strikes  no  more, 

And  there's  no  more  time  for  me. 


THE  PATTER  OF  THE  BAIN. 

IN  my  cosy,  little  attic, 

Sadly  dreaming  of  the  past, 

Keeping  time  unto  the  rain-drops, 
As  they  patter,  thick  and  fast ; 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  79 

What  care  I  for  the  world-storms, 

With  dreary,  business  clatter, 
While  Nature's  tear-drops  lull  me 

With  their  patter,  patter,  patter  ? 

From  each  corner  of  my  attic 

Whisper  voices,  soft  and  low, 
And  they  speak  to  me  of  loved  ones. 

Lost  and  mourned  a  while  ago ; 
Yet  they  solemnly  console  me, 

In  a  sort  of  mystic  chatter, 
And  the  rain-drops  ridicule  me, 

As  they  patter,  patter,  patter. 

So  I  turn  me  to  the  future, 

And  I  dream  such  beauteous  dreams, 
Calling  up  such  fairy  visions, 

That  my  room  a  heaven  seems  • 
And  still  those  voices  whisper, 

Still  sweetly  do  they  flatter, 
Yet  I  know  they're  but  the  rain-drops, 

By  their  patter,  patter,  patter. 


VOICES  OF  NATUKE. 

SWEET  child,  look  upward  to  the  sky — • 
Yon  twinkling  stars  behold, 

That  gild  the  night  with  beaming  eye, 
Like  lamps  of  burnished  gold. 


80  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Come,  walk  with  me,  this  summer  day, 
For  earth  is  green  and  fair, 

And  blossoms  ope  with  tinted  ray, 
And  fragrance  fills  the  air. 

And  look  upon  the  streams,  that  flow 
To  cheer  the  fruitful  plain, 

The  mightier  rivers,  deep  and  slow, 
That  swell  the  unfathomed  main ; 

Then,  shouldst  thou,  little  one,  inquire, 
How  came  these  things  to  be  ? 

Who  woke  the  stars'  unfading  fire? 
Who  poured  the  surging  sea  ? 

The  youngest  star  amid  the  throng 
Would  with  its  pencil  write, 

**  GOD  MADE  ME,"  as  it  rolls  along 
Through  fields  of  boundless  light : 

The  lowliest  flowret  makes  reply, 
Though  in  the  desert  born : 

"  GOD  is  MY  MAKER,"  doth  it  sigh 
To  the  refulgent  morn. 

And,  when  the  sun  forsakes  the  day 
And  dews  their  tear-drops  weep, 

"  PRAISE  GOD  OUR  MAKER,"  doth  it  say, 
And  fold  itself  to  sleep. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  81 


THE  ROOK  AND  THE  LARK. 

" GOOD-NIGHT,  Sir  Rook,"  said  a  little  Lark; 

"  The  daylight  fades — it  will  soon  be  dark : 

I've  bathed  my  wings  in  the  sun's  last  ray, 

I've  sung  my  hymn  to  the  dying  day ; 

So  now  I  haste  to  my  quiet  nook 

In  yon  dewy  meadow ; — good-night,  Sir  Rook." 

"  Good-night,  poor  Lark,"  said  his  titled  friend, 

With  a  haughty  toss  and  a  distant  bend  ; 

"I  also  go  to  a  rest  profound, 

But  not  to  sleep  on  the  cold,  damp  ground ; 

The  fittest  place  for  a  bird  like  me 

Is  the  topmost  bough  of  yon  tall  pine-tree. 

"  I  opened  my  eyes  at  peep  of  day, 
And  saw  you  taking  your  upward  way, 
Dreaming  your  fond,  romantic  dreams, 
An  ugly  speck  in  the  sun's  bright  beams ; 
Soaring  too  high  to  be  seen  or  heard — • 
And  said  to  myself,  What  a  foolish  bird ! 

"I  trod  the  park  with  a  princely  air; 

I  filled  my  crop  with  the  richest  fare ; 

I  cawed  all  day  'mid  a  lordly  crew, 

And  I  made  more  noise  in  the  world  than  you ! 

The  sun  shone  full  on  my  ebon  wing ; 

I  looked  and  wondered  ; — good  night,  poor  thing!" 


82  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

"  Good  night,  once  more,"  said  the  lark's  sweet  voice ; 

"  I  see  no  cause  to  repent  my  choice ; 

You  build  your  nest  in  the  lofty  pine, 

But  is  your  slumber  more  soft  than  mine? 

You  make  more  noise  in  the  world  than  I, 

But  whose  is  the  sweeter  minstrelsy  ?  " 


SONG  OF  THE  SKATERS. 

THOUGH  winter  winds  are  whistling  loud, 

And  skies  look  cold  and  gray ; 
Though  earth  lies  mute  beneath  her  shroud, 
The  skaters !  what  care  they  ? 
A  happy  throng, 
With  mirth  and  song,   » 
O'er  fields  of  ice  we  swiftly  glide, 
As  sea-birds  sail  above  the  tide. 

0,  well  we  know  the  winter  hours 

Fly  faster  as  we  sing ; 
That  sooner  come  the  birds  and  flowers, 
And  loveliness  of  Spring ! 
So,  night  or  day, 
Away !  away ! 

O'er  crystal  plains,  with  laugh  and  song, 
We  speed,  we  speed,  like  the  wind  along. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  83 


The  heated  room,  the  crowded  hall, 
Where  pride  and  fashion  meet ; 
"Where  waves  of  music  rise  and  fall, 
In  time  to  dancing  feet — 
We  ask  not  these ; 
Give  us  the  breeze, 

And  the  gleaming  floor  o'er  which  we  go, 
Like  arrows  shot  from  the  hunter's  bow. 

Then  loud  the  stormy  winds  may  blow, 

And  skies  look  cold  and  gray ; 
Then  earth  may  wear  her  robe  of  snow, 
We'll  laugh  the  hours  away ! 
With  mirth  and  song, 
A  merry  throng, 

O'er  fields  of  ice  we'll  swiftly  glide, 
As  sea-birds  sail  above  the  tide. 


VACATION.*  ' 

OH,  vacation,  vacation, 

You're  now  on  your  way  : 

What  a  nice  time  we  boys  '11  have — 

Such  fun,  and  such  play ; 

But  the  gir' swill  be  tied  to  mamma's  apron-strings; 

I  pity  'em,  don't  you?  poor  little  things!. 

*  This  may  he  spoken  by  a  little  boy,  und  be  followed  by  "The  Reply," 
in  prose,  page  93,  spoken  by  a  liltlo  girl. 


84  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Oh,  the  dear  little  girls, 
The  poor  little  things, 
Will  be  tied,  will  be  tied 
To  mamma's  apron-strings. 

They'll  put  on  their  wrappers, 
And  get  out  their  fans — 
Won't  go  out  till  dark, 
Because  the  sun  tans : — 
But  we  boys  '11  have  nice  times — 
Such  fun  and  such  play  ; 
We'll  not  do  one  scrap  of  work 
The  whole  livelong  day. 
But  the  dear  little  girls 
The  poor  little  tilings, 
Will  be  tied,  will  be  tied 
To  mamma's  apron-strings. 

The  young  ladies  so  fine, 

What  '11  they  do  at  home? 

Oh,  they'll  sit,  with  hands  crossed, 

Till  autumn  shall  come : — 

But  we,  the  rude  boys, 

We'll  have  a  nice  time : — 

We'll  run  races,  play  nine-pins, 

Jump,  skip,  and  climb — 

But  the  poor  little  girls, 

The  dear  little  things, 

Will  be  tied,  all  vacation, 

To  mamma's  apron-strings  1 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  85 


PART  II. -PROSE. 


OUR  PARENTS. 

WE  are  told  in  the  Bible  that  we  must  honor  and 
obey  our  parents.  I  fear  we  do  not  always  regard 
this.  Our  dear  parents  are  very  kind  to  us.  They 
do  all  they  can  to  make  us  happy.  They  supply 
all  our  wants.  If  we  are  sick,  they  watch  over  us, 
day  and  night.  They  send  us  to  school,  and  give 
us  books  and  kind  teachers.  They  work  hard,  that 
they  may  give  us  a  good  education.  In  every  way 
they  strive  to  have  us  do  right. 

What  could  we  do,  without  their  kind  aid  ?  As 
we  think  how  much  they  do  for  our  happiness,  let 
us  try  to  be  good  and  obedient  children.  We  can 
not  pay  them,  with  money,  for  what  they  do  for  us 
every  day  we  live.  The  only  pay  they  ask  of  us, 
in  return  for  all  their  goodness,  is  that  we  will  love 
and  obey  them.  And  this  our  Heavenly  Father 
commands  us  to  do. 

May  we  always  be  ready  to  love  them,  and  quick 

8 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


to  obey  them.  May  we  never  speak  unkindly  to 
the  dear  parents  who  do  so  much,  for  us.  For  one, 
I  will  love  my  parents,  and  I  will  show  my  love,  by 
doing  as  they  wish.  And  will  not  you,  dear  school- 
mates, honor  and  obey  your  parents  ?  I  hope  you 
will. 


ADDRESS  AT  AN  EXHIBITION. 

DEAR  PARENTS  AND  FRIENDS  : — We  bid  you  a 
hearty  welcome  to  this,  our  pleasant  school-room. 
We  are  glad  to  see  you  here,  and  we  will  try  to 
perform  our  parts  so  well,  that  you  will  feel  glad 
that  you  came  to  hear  us. 

We  beg  that  you  will  remember,  that  we  are 
quite  young,  and  that  you  will  not  expect  too  much 
of  us.  We  do  not  claim  to  be  perfect,  nor  can  we 
hope  to  do  as  well  as  older  boys  and  girls.  But 
we  will  try  to  do  so  well  to-day,  that  you  will  feel 
that  we  have  not  wasted  all  our  time,  and  that  our 
kind  teacher  has  not  been  inattentive  to  our  im- 
provement. 

We  have  many  things  to  learn ;  and,  by  adding  a 
little  to  our  stock  of  knowledge,  daily,  we  hope  we 
may  grow  up  and  become  wise  and  useful.  It  is 
our  motto,  to  do  well  whatever  we  attempt  to  do — 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  87 


for  our  teacher  says  that  a  little,  well  done,  is  bet- 
ter than  much,  poorly  done. 

In  behalf  of  myself,  and  my  school-mates,  I 
thank  you,  for  coming  to  encourage  us  at  this  time. 
We  thank  you,  also,  for  all  your  kindness  to  us, 
in  allowing  us  to  come  to  so  good  a  school. 
In  return  for  your  goodness,  we  will  not  only  try 
to  interest  you  now,  but  we  will  try  so  to  live  and 
improve  our  time  and  privileges,  that  we  may  at  all 
times  merit  the  approbation  of  our  earthly  parents, 
and  of  our  "Father  who  is  in  Heaven" 


LITTLE  BY  LITTLE. 

^LITTLE  by  little"  the  rain  falls  from  the  clouds 
upon  the  thirsty  earth,  giving  beauty  and  freshness 
to  nature,  and  causing  the  seeds  to  expand,  the 
grass  to  spring  up,  the  flowers  to  open. 

" Little  by  little"  does  the  acorn  send  forth  its 
tiny  shoots,  which  slowly  press  upward  and  stretch 
outward,  until  they  take  the  form  and  qualities  of 
the  stately  oak. 

" Little  by  little"  do  the  mountain  rills  add  to  the 
flowing  rivulet,  until  they  all  unite  to  form  the  noble 
river,  and  are  borne  onward  to  the  mighty  ocean. 

"Little  by  little"  does  the  painter  add  to  the 


88  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

blank  canvas,  until  it  assumes  the  form  and  expres- 
sion of  the  human  face,  and  the  likeness  of  a  dear 
friend. 

So,  too,  "  little  bif  little" do  we  grow  from  infancy 
to  manhood,  from  feebleness  to  strength,  from  a 
state  of  dependence  to  active  and  useful  lives. 

"Little  by  little,"  do  we  gain  that  learning  which 
will  fit  us  to  act  well  our  parts  in  life — and  make 
us 'both  useful  and  happy. 

May  we  daily  strive  so  to  add,  "little  by  little" 
to  the  growth  of  our  minds,  and  the  culture 
of  our  hearts,  that  we  may  not  fail  of  becoming  a 
benefit  to  the  world  in  which  we  live — and  so  that 
we  may  daily  meet  the  approval  of  Him  who 
gives  us  all  our  blessings. 


A  FABLE. 

IT  happened  once  that  all  the  animals,  birds, 
fishes,  and  insects,  met  to  hear  a  sermon  from  one 
of  their  number ;  I  have  not  been  told  who  was  the 
orator.  The  subject  of  the  discourse  was  the  duty 
of  living  to  do  good,  and  the  audience  seemed  much 
pleased  with  the  number  and  variety  of  the  motives 
presented.  As  they  wen'  to  their  homes,  after  the 
performance,  thus  they  moralized  to  themselves: — 

Said  the  Ant,  "This  sermon  is  a  very  good  one 


THE     LITTLE     OllATOR. 


for  some  folks,  but  it  has  no  sort  of  application  to 
me.  AVhat  can  such  a  poor,  little,  crawling  thing 
as  I,  do  for  the  good  of  the  world  ?  Besides,  I  have 
so  large  a  family  of  my  own  to  provide  for,  that  it 
requires  all  my  time  and  care.  If  I  had  wings,  like 
a  butterfly,  I  would  not  live  so  useless  a  life  as  he 
does." 

Said  the  Butterfly,  "  I  am  really  ashamed  of  the 
ant,  who  has  such  stores  laid  up,  that  she  does  no 
more  good  with  them.  I  am  sure,  if  I  were  half  as 
rich,  I  would  supply  all  the  poor  of  the  neighbor- 
hood. But,  when  I  can  hardly  get  enough  for  my- 
self, how  can  I  help  others  ?  " 

The  Little  Fish  complained  that  he  had  neither 
time,  nor  talents,  nor  way  of  doing  good ;  he  was 
so  weak  that  he  had  no  influence ;  and,  moreover, 
he  had  to  get  food  for  himself,  and  take  care  that 
he  was  not  ma  le  food  for  others.  If  he  were  only 
as  large  and  as  strong  as  a  whale,  he  might  be  useful. 

The  Sheep  said  that,  as  he  had  no  horns  to  defend 
himself,  it  was  absurd  to  think  of  his  doing  any  thing 
for  others ;  he  hoped  his  neighbor,  the  goat,  would 
apply  the  sermon  to  himself. 

Thus  each  excuse i  himself;  and,  on  the  whole, 
the  sole  result  of  the  discourse,  so  much  praised, 
was  to  convince  each  that  himself  was  the  most 
unfortunate,  and  his  neighbor  without  excuse. 

8* 


90  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

MORAL. — People,  who  do  not  do  their  duty  in  the 
situation  in  which  they  a,re,  would  not  be  likely  to 
do  so  in  any  other. 


DO  IT  TO-DAY! 

YES  :  if  it  must  be  done  some  time  or  other,  and 
can  be  done  to-day  as  well  as  any  time,  do  it  by  all 
means  to-day ;  for  you  are  sure  of  no  other  time. 
Perhaps  you  may  think  it  can  be  done  more  easily 
to-morrow,  or  next  week,  or  something  else  seems 
to  you  more  important  to  occupy  to-day.  Very 
well.  If  you  have  two  things  which  ought,  you 
think,  both  to  be  done  to-day,  and  only  one  can  be 
done,  decide  at  once  which  is  the  most  important, 
and  do  that.  But  can  such  a  case  occur?  .Has 
not  every  day  its  own  duties  ?  and  is  it  not  because 
we  neglected  some  of  them  yesterday,  or  last  week, 
that  we  have  more  than  we  can  well  do  to-day  ? 
We  fear  much  of  the  confusion  which  people  are  in 
about  the  use  of  their  time  is  caused  by  that  artfnl, 
deceitful  busybody  called 

"BY  AND  BY." 
There's  a  little  mischief-making 

Elfin,  who  is  ever  nigh, 
.    Thwarting  every  undertaking ; 
And  his  name  is  a  By  and  by." 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  91 


What  we  ought  to  do  this  minute 

"  Will  be  better  done,"  he'll  cry 
"  If  to-morrow  we  begin  it ::' 

"Put  it  off,"  says  By  and  by. 
Those  who  heed  his  treacherous  wooing 

Will  his  faithless  guidance  rue : 
What  we  always  put  off  doing, 

Clearly,  we  shall  never  do. 
We  shall  reach  what  we  endeavor 

If  on  Now  we  more  rely ; 
But  unto  the  realms  of  Never 

Leads  the  pilot  By  and  by. 


THE  PET  CHICKEN. 

ONCE  a  little  chicken  lost  its  mother.  It  had  no 
brothers  or  sisters.  It  was  all  alone  in  the  great 
barn-yard.  George,  the  farmer's  son,  pitied  the  poor 
little  thing,  and  asked  his  mother  to  let  him  bring 
it  into  the  house.  She  gave  him  leave,  and  brought 
a  box  down  stairs,  and  made  for  ifc  a  little  bed 
of  soft  wool.  When  George  caught  it,  it  was  much 
scared,  Its»heart  went  pit-a-pat,  and  it  cried,  "  Peep, 
peep,  peep,"  most  piteously ;  for  how  should  a  little 
chicken  know  what  such  a  great  giant,  as  George 
seemed  to  be,  meant  to  do  with  it.  He  brought  it 
into  the  kitchen,  and  put  it  into  the  box ;  and  soon 


92  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


it  nestled  down,  and  poked  its  head  under  the  soft 
wool,  and  went  to  sleep,  for  it  was  very  tired. 

It  slept  a  good  while ;  and,  when  it  waked  up 
George  fed  it  with  some  warm  dough,  and  then  it 
hopped  out  of  its  box,  and  looked  around,  hopping 
a  little  this  way  and  a  few  steps  that  way,  to  get 
acquainted.  By  and  by  great  dog  Tovvser  came  in. 
Chick  cast  its  small,  round,  black  eye  toward  Tow- 
ser,  and  hopped  back.  Towser  wagged  his  tail,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "  You  need  not  be  afraid  of  me ;  I 
would  not  hurt  a  feather  of  you.  I  take  care  of 
every  thing  in  master's  kitchen." 

Next  came  the  gray  kitty.  She  had  been  scud- 
ding in  the  corn-loft  for  mice,  and  felt  quite  savage. 
How  big  her  eyes  were,  when  she  saw  the  chick. 
"  Here  is  a  nice  fat  bird  for  my  breakfast,"  her  looks 
seemed  to  say ;  George  caught  her.  "  No,  no, 
Miss  Kitty,"  said  he,  "this  chicken  is  one  of  the 
family  now,  just  as  much  as  you  are :  you  must  be 
kind  to  her;  you  must  not  frighten,  or  bite,  or 
eat  her  up ;  you  must  do  to  her  as  you  wish  to  be 
done  by."  How  much  the  gray  kitty  understood, 
I  do  not  know.  She  was  slow  to  learn,  I  think,  for 
George  had  to  watch  her  one,  two,  three,  and  four 
days,  lest  she  should  spring  on  chicky.  In  the  end 
they  all  became  great  friends — Towser,  kitty,  and 
chicken — for,  one  day,  on  visiting  the  kitchen,  what 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  93 

do  you  think  I  saw?  Towser  was  stretched  before 
the  fire,  kitty  lay  curled  up  between  his  legs, 
chicky  was  roosting  on  his  head,  and  all  three  fast 
asleep. 

When  Towser  is  out,  and  kitty  gone,  if  the  family 
go  into  the  front  room  to  sit,  the  poor  chicken  feels 
very  lonesome  ;  and  it  will  run  to  the  door  and  cry, 
"  Peep,  peep,  peep,"  asking  to  be  let  in.  When  the 
door  opens,  in  it  scampers.  "Chirp,  chirp,  chirp," 
it  says,  ifi  a  cheerful,  lively  note,  "  chirp,  chirp  ;  how 
glad  am  I.'1 

THE  REPLY  * 

MAY  T  answer  thee,  Master  Charlie  ?  And  first, 
didst  thou  think  our  tongues  were  all  tied,  that  we 

o  ' 

could  not  reply  to  thee,  and  send  back  a  little  of  the 
laughter  to  your  side  ?  We,  too,  are  glad  vacation's 
coming;  for  we  have  worked  hard,  and  want  a  little 
rest.  You  wonder  what  we  have  done  ?  More 
than  little  boys,  who  play  and  think  so  much  of  the 
fun  that  is  coming  when  school  is  out,  can  2wssibly 
do.  We  sit  still  almost  six  hours,  upon  a  hard 
bench ;  we  learn  our  lessons  well.  Can  you  say 
all  that  for  the  boys?  We  don't  always  do  right, 
I  know  ;  for  the  fun  is  in  our  hearts,  and  sometimes 
it  bursts  out;  but  we  get  our  pay  for  it.  There  is 


*  To  be  spoken  after  Vacation,  on  page  83. 


94  THE    LITTLE    ORATCR. 

one  word  that  always  comes  from  our  teacher's  lips  ; 
it  is  a  long,  hard  word,  and  sometimes  I  wonder 
what  it  means,  and  where  it  first  came  from  ?  But 
you  boys  can  tell  where  it  goes  to.  'Tis  called  a 
Misdemeanor  ;  did  you  ever  hear  of  it,  boys  ? 

'l  Tied  to  mamma's  apron-strings,"  indeed  !  It  is 
well  some  one  is  in  the  house,  else  there  would  be 
a  sad  time  when  you  come  in  crying,  poor  things, 
so  tired,  with  clothes,  which  in  the  morning  were 
clean,  now  covered  with  dirt,  and  which,  very  mys- 
teriously, you  have  sadly  torn.  Now,  if  there  were 
no  little  girls  "  tied  to'  mamma's  apron-strings,"  to 
run  for  the  thimble  and  thread,  what  would  become 
of  you,  pray  ?  surely  you  could  not  get  them  your- 
selves, you  are  so  tired  and  cross.  Pity  us,  indeed ! 
You  may  be  thankful  that  we  are  not  such  romps 
as  you,  and  that  there  is  some  one  "  tied  to  mam- 
ma's apron-strings."  Of  course  we  do  not  go  out 
in  the  hot  sun,  in  the  midsummer  days.  We  save 
our  crying,  complaining,  and  complexion  too.  by 
this.  But  really,  boys,  we  do  pity  you,  sometimes. 
When  you  have  been  out  tossing  ball  or  running 

J  O 

races,  and  come  in  almost  melted,  then  try  to  drive 
the  sister  "tied  to  mamma's  apron-strings  "from  her 
nice,  cool  seat,  and  get  her  fan,  which  she  wont  yield 
to  you ;  this,  my  dear  litttle  boys,  is  when  we  pity 
you.  I  tell  you  we  don't  want  you  to  call  us  ''  dear  j 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  95 


little  jgirls,"  and  in  the  next  breath  "poor  little 
thing'."  We  don't  want  to  be  tanned;  we  love, 
the  r  easant  sunshine,  but  we  don't  love  the  color 
it  gi\vs  to  our  faces.  And  as  for  your  work  :  I  won- 
der w/iere's  the  work  you  ever  did  accomplish. 

But,  when  the  pleasant  time  comes  for  our  ram- 
bles in  the  woods,  to  gather  berries  and  flowers, 
please  to  remember  we  are  tied  to  "  mamma's  apron- 
strings,"  ;?nd  can  not  go  with  you.  What  fine  sport 
for  you,  alone  in  the  woods ;  so  nicely  you'll  come 
home,  with  your  hats  trimmed  with  oak-leaves  and 
flowers !  No,  no,  boys,  save  your  pity  for  your- 
selves ;  you  will  need  it  then. 

"The  young  ladies,  so  fine, 

What'll  they  do  at  home  ? 
Oh,  they'll  sit  with  hands  crossed, 

Till  autumn  shall  come." 

Be  careful  that,  when  you  grow  to  be  men,  you 
don't  stay  in  doors  to  save  your  complexion.  You 
may  be  glad  to  stay  with  the  ladies,  even  if  they 
are  in  doors;  but  remember,  we  shun  the  sun's 
(son's)  smile. 

And  now,  boys,  I  hope  you  will  have  a  good 
time  ;  we  girls  are  going  to.  But  I  warn  you  to  be 
careful  how  you  trouble  the  "  dear  little  girls,"  "the 
poor  little  things,"  with  your  pity,  or  talk  to  us  about 
being  tied  to  "  mamma's  apron-strings." 


90  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


SOLILOaUY  OF  A  POOR  BOY. 

I  THINK  it  is  too  cruel  that  I  can  not  go  by 
Thomas  Silver's  house,  without  being  called  poor. 
His  father  is  rich,  but  it  shows  a  very  mean  disposi- 
tion in  his  son  to  twit  me  of  my  poverty.  I  know 
I  am  poor ;  but  what  of  that  ?  I  can  still  be 
honest. 

My  teacher  tells  me,  if  I  get  wisdom  and  knowl- 
edge, I  shall  be  richer  than  if  I  had  millions  of 

O      ' 

gold.  Yes,  I  am  poor ;  but  I  would  not  steal,  I 
would  not  tell  a  lie,  I  would  not  break  the  Sabbath, 
I  would  not  willingly  hurt  the  feelings  of  one  of 
my  companions,  for  a  great  deal  of  money. 

What  if  I  am  poor  ?  Poor  boys  often  become 
great  men.  Ben.  Franklin  was  a  poor  boy.  He 
went  into  the  great  city  of  Philadelphia  with  a  pack 
on  his  back  ;  a  strange  lad,  and  no  home  tc  go  to. 
George  Washington  was  poor.  Henry  Clay,  the 
"Mill-Boy  of  the  Slashes,"  was  poor.  And  yet 
they  all  made  some  figure  in  the  world. 

What  if  1  am  poor  ?  My  Redeemer  was  poor. 
He  uhad  not  where  to  lay  his  head."  He  dwelt 
among  the  poor,  and  he  loved  them.  Ah  !  let  me 
blush  than  I  can  for  &  moment  regret  my  poverty ! 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  97 

I  will  sing  the  beautiful  verse  my  mother  loves  so 
well : — 

"He  that  is  down  need  fear  no  fall; 

He  that  is  poor  no  pride ; 
He  that  is  humble  ever  shall 
Have  God  to  be  his  guide." 

I  do  not  see,  after  all,  but  I  can  sing  as  heartily 
as  if  I  had  thousands  of  dollars.  Money  does  not 
make  light  hearts.  There  is  the  squire — he  is 
rich ;  but  I  never  heard  him  sing  or  whistle  in  my 
life.  His  cheek  is  paler  than  mine,  and  his  arm  is 
thinner ;  and  I  am  sure  he  can  not  sleep  sounder 
than  I  do. 

No;  I  am  not  poor,  either.  This  fine  summer 
morning  I  feel  quite  rich.  These  beautiful  flowers 
are  mine ;  the  red  clouds  yonder,  where  the  sun  is 
going  to  burst  forth — they  are  mine.  All  these 
singing-birds — the  robins,  the  thrushes,  the  larks — 
are  mine.  I  never  was  sick  a  day  in  my  life,  and 
I  always  manage  to  get  a  crust  of  bread  somehow. 
What  blessings  could  money  buy  for  me  greater 
than  these  !  I  thought  I  was  poor ;  but  I  am  rich ! 

The  birds  have  no  purse  or  pocket-book ;  neither 
have  I.  They  have  no  pains  nor  headaches  ;  neither 
have  I.  They  have  food  and  drink ;  so  have  I. 
They  are  cheerful ;  so  am  I.  They  are  taken  care 
of  by  God ;  so  am  I. 

9 


98  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


Ab  !  this  is  the  secret  of  human  happiness,  after 
all.  I  Will  think  less  about  the  things  I  do  not 
have,  amd  more  about  those  I  do  have.  I  will  al- 
ways remember  that  a  crust  with  contentment  is 
sweet;  and,  if  I  endeavor  to  do  what  is  right,  God 
will  never  leave  me  without  one. 


ACT  THE  TRUTH. 

A  GROOM,  whose  business  it  was  to  take  care  of 
a  certain  horse,  let  the  animal  go  loose  into  the  field. 
After  a  while,  he  wanted  to  catch  him ;  but  the 
horse  chose  to  run  about,  rather  than  be  shut  up 
in  the  stable,  so  he  pranced  about  the  field,  and  kept 
out  of  the  groom's  way. 

The  groom  now  went  to  the  barn,  and  got  the 
measure  with  which  he  was  wont  to  bring  the  horse 
his  oats.  When  the  horse  saw  the  measure,  he 
thought  the  groom  surely  had  some  oats  for  him ; 
and  so  he  went  up  to  him,  and  was  caught  and  taken 
to  the  stable. 

On  another  day,  the  horse  was  in  the  field,  and 
refused  to  be  caught.  So  the  groom  again  got  the 
measure,  and  held  it  out,  inviting  the  horse  to  come 
to  it.  But  the  animal  shook  his  I  end,  saying,  "  Nay, 
master  groom;  you  told  me  a  lie  the  other  day,  and 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  90 

I  am  not  so  silly  as  to  be  cheated  a  second  time  by 
you." 

"  But,"  said  the  groom,  "  I  did  not  tell  you  a  lie ; 
I  only  held  out  the  measure,  and  you  thought  it 
was  full  of  oats.  I  did  not  tell  you  there  were  oats 
in  it." 

"  Your  excuse  is  worse  than  the  cheat  itself,"  said 
the  horse.  "  You  held  out  the  measure,  and  there- 
by did  as  much  as  to  say,  '/  have  some  oats  for 
you.1 " 

Actions  speak  as  well  as  words,  and  every  one 
who  deceives,  whether  by  words  or  deeds,  is  a  liar. 
Therefore,  learn  to  act  the  truth  as  well  as  to  speak 
it. 


THE  TONGUE. 

EVERY  one  has  in  his  mouth  a  thing  to  talk  with, 
called  the  tongue.  This  is  made  to  tell  the  truth 
with.  When  it  tells  a  lie,  it  does  that  which  is  very 
wrong. 

The  tongue  is  made  to  say  kind  and  pleasant 
things  to  our  friends.  When  it  says  a  saucy  thing 
to  any  body,  it  is  a  naughty  tongue. 

When  the  tongue  says  a  disobedient  word  to  a 
father  or  mother,  it  is  a  wicked  tongue ;  and  when 


100  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

it  says  an  unkind  word  to  a  brother  or  sister,  it  is  a 
very  bad  tongue  indeed. 

When  the  tongue  swears,  it  does  that  which  God 
has  forbidden.  When  it  speaks  bad  words,  it  is  a 
vile  tongue.  What  boy  would  like  to  carry  such  a 
tongue  in  his  mouth  ? 

And  now,  dear  school-mates,  let  me  ask  you  a 
few  questions.  What  sort  of  a  tongue  have  you  ? 
Does  it  always  speak  the  truth  ?  Does  that  tongue 
of  yours  ever  say  saucy  words  ? 

Does  your  tongue  ever  speak  disobedient  words 
to  your  parents  ?  Does  it  ever  say  unkind  words  to 
a  brother  or  sister  ?  Does  it  ever  swear,  or  utter  vile 
words  ? 

O,  my  school-mates,  if  your  tongue  ever  says  any 
thing  wrong,  what  shall  be  done  ?  Can  you  tell  me 
how  to  correct  an  evil  tongue  ?  I  can  tell  you. 
Take  care  of  your  heart,  and  think  right  thoughtSj 
and  you  will  be  sure  to  speak  right  words. 


TRY. 

THERE  was  once  a  good  little  dwarf,  whose  name 
was  Try — a  very  queer  name,  to  be  sure.  But  Try, 
though  small,  was  very  smart  and  strong.  He  could 
do  almost  any  thing ;  and,  when  he  undertook  to  do 
a  thing,  he  never  gave  up  till  it  was  done. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  101 


But  the  little  fellow  wtis  very  kind.  He  was 
always  ready  to  help  others  out  of  difficulty.  If  he 
saw  any  one  with  a  hard  task,  arid  almost  discour- 
aged, he  would  pleasantly  say,  "  Try  will  assist  you ; 
don't  give  up." 

I  said  there  was  a  dwarf,  called  Try.  I  may  also 
say  he  is  now  living.  He  is  ready  to  help  every 
one  of  us.  When  we  have  a  very  hard  lesson,  we 
have  only  to  get  Try  to  help  us,  and  all  will  come 
right.  And,  if  we  will  allow  him  to  assist  us  in  all 
our  efforts  to  be  good,  we  shall  succeed.  Then  let 
us  take  Try  for  our  helper,  in  all  our  lessons,  and  in 
all  our  good  endeavors. 


THE  BAD 


IT  is  easy  to  tell  who^the/^a'!  so'ho]arjis,''>  Jle;  is 
often  absent  from  school,  and,  when  hVdomes',*Kor 
comes  late.  At  home,  he  disobeys  his  kind  father 
and  mother.  In  the  street,  he  is  rude  and  noisy. 
He  calls  names,  uses  bad  language,  and  quarrels. 
In  the  school-room,  he  is  idle.  As  he  does  not  study 
his  lessons,  he  can  not  recite  them.  He  often  whis- 
pers and  plays,  and  causes  his  teacher  much  trouble. 
His  clothes  and  shoes  are  never  neat  and  clean.  He 
loves -the  company  of  bad  boys,  and  does  what  he 
can  to  make  others  bad.  To  his  school-mates,  he  is 


102  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


unkind.  He  has  no  friends,  because  he  never  does 
any  thing  to  make  friends.  If  he  lives,  we  fear  he 
will  be  an  ignorant  and  bad  man,  for  he  is  not  walk- 
ing in  the  right  way.  His  motto  is  "  I  DON'T  CARE 
HOW  I  LOOK,  OR  WHAT  I  DO."  The  road  he  travels 
leads  to  a  bad  ending.  Then  let  us  shun  the  path 
of  the  bad  scholar. 


THE  GOOD  SCHOLAR. 

SCHOOL-MATES,  we  have  just  heard  about  the  bad 
scholar.  I  will  now  tell  you  about  the  good  scholar, 
and  let  you  choose  which  you  will  be. 

The  good  scholar  is  never  absent  from  school,  un- 
^ss  -he  is  sick,  '.He- -is-  never  tardy,  but  is  always  in 
his  seat  before  the  hour  for  school  to  begin.  In  the 

o 

school  i-ociTT, '1\3  is  quV,  and  orderly.  He  studies 
•Iris  les'sons  diligently,  and  recites  them  correctly. 
He  never  plays,  nor  whispers,  nor  does  he,  in  any 
way,  trouble  his  kind  teacher. 

On  the  play-ground,  he  is  always  kind  and  pleas- 
ant, lie  never  quarrels,  nor  does  he  ever  use  im- 
proper language. 

In  the  streets,  he  is  manly  and  civil.  If  any  one 
speaks  to  him,  he  answers  pleasantly  and  politely. 
His  dress  is  always  neat  and  tidy,  his  face  and  hands 
washed  and  clean,  and  his  hair  nicely  brushed. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  103 


At  home,  lie  is  obedient  to  his  parents,  and  kind 
to  his  brothers  and  sisters.  He  tries  to  learn  some- 
thing good,  and  to  do  some  good,  every  clay.  His 
motto  is, "  I  WILL  TRY  TO  DO  RIGHT,"  and  he  daily  asks 
his  heavenly  Father  to  guide  and  assist  him.  Let 
us  try  to  imitate  him,  and  then  we  may  hope  to  be- 
come good  and  useful  men. 


THE  DISOBEDIENT  KITTEN. 

"£Tow,"  said  an  old  puss  to  one  of  her  children, 
as  she  washed  her  face  and  paws,  "  I  charge  you, 
Kitty,  not  to  go  into  the  next  gentleman's  yard,  for 
great  dog  Jowler  lies  there;  he  has  horrid  teeth, 
and  a  terrible  snarl,  and  he  is  always  on  the  look- 
out for  stray  kittens.  Remember,  and  keep  at 
home ;  we  have  a  snug  garden,  a  sweet  hay-mow, 
kind  friends,  and  work  enough — rats  and  mice  a 
plenty.  So,  do  not  stroll  off  with  bad  company, 
visiting  places  where  you  have  no  business  to  be, 
and  disgracing  your  bringing  up;  for  you  know 
better,  Kitty,  you  do.7' 

But  Kitty  had  a  saucy  look;  she  boxed  her 
mother's  ears,  in  play  to  be  sure,  and  away  she 
frisked  after  a  dead  leaf.  Kit  did  not  look  at  all 
like  minding ;  and,  after  her  mother  had  gone  to  bed 
on  the  hay-mow,  she  kept  up  her  moonlight  ram- 


104  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

bles,  like  a  little  silly  Kit,  as  she  was.  One  night, 
when  she  and  some  of  her  thoughtless  companions 
were  scudding  across  Jowler's  yard,  he,  much  dis- 
turbed by  their  noise,  at  an  hour  when  he  thought 
all  honest  folks  ought  to  be  abed  and  asleep,  started 
up  and  made  after  them  in  a  violent  rage  ;  and  poor 
Kitty,  in  her  fright,  got  entangled  in  some  briar 
bushes,  and  so  fell  into  Jowler's  power.  He  seized 
her  by  the  neck  with  his  terrible  mouth,  shook  the 
breath  out  of  her  body,  and  tossed  her  over  the 
fence. 

"  Oh,  oh ! "  cried  Willy  and  Mary,  when  they 
found  their  little  favorite  stiff  and  cold,  the  next 
morning.  "  Oh  ! "  cried  their  mother,  pussy's  mis- 
tress, "you  little  puss!  you  bid  fair  to  be  an  excel- 
lent mouser."  "0,  dear,"  mewed  the  old  cat,  "O, 
dear,  such  are  the  fruits  of  disobedience.  How 
many  a  willful  child  comes  to  an  untimely  end." 


THE  TRUE  WAT. 

be  cast  down  by  trifles.  If  a  spider 
breaks  his  thread  twenty  times,  twenty  times  will 
he  mend  it  again.  Make  up  your  minds  to  do  a 
thing,  and  you  will  do  it  Fear  not,  if  a  trouble 
comes  upon  you ;  keep  up  your  spirits,  though  the 
day  be  a  dark  one. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  105 


"  Troubles  will  never  stop  forever, 
The  darkest  day  will  pass  away." 
If  the  sun  is  going  down,  look  up  to  the  stars ;  if 
the  earth  is  dark,  keep  your  eyes  on  heaven  !    With 
God's  presence,  and  God's  promises,  a  man  or  a 
child  may  be  cheerful. 

"  Never  despair  when  fog's  in  the  air  ! 

A  sunshiny  morning  will  come  without  warning." 

Mind  what  you  run  after!     Never  be  content 
with  a  bubble  that  will  burst,  or  a  fire-wood  that 
will  end  in  smoke  and  darkness.     Get  that  which 
you  can  keep,  and  which  is  worth  keeping : 
"  Something  sterling,  that  will  stay 
When  gold  and  silver  fly  away." 

Fight  hard  against  hasty  temper.  Anger  will 
come,  but  resist  it  strongly.  A  spark  may  set  a 
house  on  fire.  A  fit  of  passion  may  give  you  cause 
to  mourn  all  the  days  of  your  life.  Never  revenge 
an  injury. 

"  He  that  revenges  knows  no  rest ; 
The  meek  possess  a  peaceful  breast." 


LESSONS  TAUGHT  BY  A  SHELL. 

WHO  does  not  love  to  look  at  shells  ?  How 
beautiful  in  form  they  are  !  How  delicate  the 
material  of  which  they  are  made !  How  smooth 


106  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

their  inner  surface  is !  How  great  the  variety  of 
shapes  which  they  assume  !  And  how  very  rich 
the  colors  are,  with  which  they  are  painted  and 
adorned !  Take  up  a  polished  shell,  and  look  at 
it;  and,  while  admiring  its  beautifully  rounded 
form — the  rich  gloss  it  bears,  and  the  fine 
play  of  colors  it  presents — ask  yourself  tiie  ques- 
tion : — What  is  a  shell  ?  It  is  the  house  which 
God  has  made  for  a  little  fish  to  live  in.  That  fish 
is  not  worth  much.  It  has  no  soul.  It  can  not  think. 
It  only  lives  for  a  very  short  time.  Then  it  dies,  or 
is  devoured  by  some  other  fish.  That  is  the  end  of 
it.  And  yet  how  beautiful  is  the  house  it  lives  in. 
No  rich  man — no  prince,  or  king — not  "  even  Sol- 
omon, in  all  his  glory" — ever  had  a  palace  to  live 
in  so  fine,  so  spl'endid,  as  some  of  the  houses  which 
God  has  made  for  those  fish  to  live  in. 

We  learn  two  lessons  from  one  of  these  beautiful 
shells.  One  is  a  lesson  about  God's  wealth  and 
wisdom.  Since  God  can  afford  to  make  such  costly 
houses  for  little  fish  to  live  in,  how  rich  he  must  be ! 
And  since  he  can  make  them  in  so  great  variety 
of  form  and  beauty,  how  wise  he  must  be ! 

Another  lesson  which  the  shell  teaches  is  about 
heaven.  If  the  house  which  God  makes  for  a  little 
fish  to  live  in,  for  a  very  short  time,  is  so  beautiful, 
how  very  beautiful  may  we  expect  that  heavenly 


THE    LITTLE     ORATOR.  107 


house  to  be,  in  which  all  who  love  Jesus  are  to  live 
forever  ! 

Think  of  these  lessons,  when  you  look  at  a 
pretty  shell — and  try  to  please  that  great  Being, 
all  of  whose  works  'declare  his  goodness  and 
wisdom. 


GOOD  ADVICE. 

IF  you  have  an  enemy,  act  kindly  to  him,  and 
make  him  your  friend.  You  may  not  win  him  over 
at  once,  but  try  again.  Let  one  kind  act  follow  an- 
other, until  you  have  gained  him.  By  little  and 
little,  great  things  are  completed. 

"Water  falling,  day  by  day, 
Wears  the  hardest  rock  away." 

And  so  continued  kindness  will  soften  a  heart  of 
stone.  Whatever  you  do,  do  it  willingly.  A  boy 
that  is  whipped  to  school,  never  learns  his  lessons 
well.  A  man  that  is  compelled  to  work,  cares  not 
how  badly  his  work  is  done.  But  he  that  takes  off 
his  coat  cheerfully,  and  rolls  up  his  sleeves  in  earnest, 
and  sings  while  he  works,  is  the  man  for  me. 

"  A  cheerful  spirit  gets  on  quick, 
A  grumbler  in  the  mud  will  stick." 


108  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Evil  thoughts  are  worse  enemies  than  lions  and 
tigers ;  for  we  can  keep  out  of  the  way  of  wild 
beasts,  but  bad  thoughts  win  their  way  every  where. 
The  cup  that  is  full,  will  hold  no  more ;  keep  your 
heads  and  hearts  full  of  good  thoughts,  that  bad 
thoughts  may  find  no  room  to  enter. 

"Be  on  your  guard,  and  strive,  and  pray, 

To  drive  all  evil  thoughts  away." 
Be  good,  and  do  good,  my  dear  school-mates,  and 
then  you  will  gain  friends  and  happiness. 


SPRING. 

How  pleasant  is  Spring.  Then  the  snow  melts 
away,  the  grass  and  flowers  begin  to  grow,  and  the 
little  birds  fill  the  air  with  their  pleasant  music. 

It  is  in  Spring  that  the  farmer  ploughs  his  fields, 
and  sows  his  grain.  It  is  then,  too,  that  the  cattle 
are  driven  forth  into  the  pastures,  and  left  to  crop 
the  sweet  and  tender  grass. 

It  is  in  Spring  that  the  trees,  which  have  been 
bare  all  Winter,  begin  to  shoot  out  their  green  leaves 
and  put  forth  their  beautiful  blossoms. 

As  we  enjoy  the  breath  of  Spring,  and  delight  in 
Nature's  returning  life,  let  us,  in  our  hearts,  bless 
that  good  Being,  who  makes  the  flowers  grow,  and 
who  said,  "  The  cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills  are 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  109 

mine."     Let  us  praise  and  bless  Him,  for  He  is 
great  and  good. 


SUMMER. 

SUMMER  has  come,  with  its  warm  airs  and  hot 
sun.  The  snows  of  Winter  are  all  gone.  The 
chilly  winds  of  Spring  are  felt  no  more. 

As  we  look  abroad,  we  see  the  earth  covered 
with  a  carpet  of  rich  green,  and  the  trees  decked 
with  leaves,  and  laden  with  the  growing  fruit. 

In  the  fields,  the  farmer  is  at  work.  The  musio 
of  the  scythe  and  the  sweet  songs  of  the  feathered 
warblers  seem  to  be  blended  in  every  field. 

The  corn,  which  was  planted  in  Spring,  shoots  up 
its  green  and  plumelike  stalks,  and  the  grass  and 
grain  are  waving  in  the  wind. 

The  cattle  are  feeding  in  the  pastures,  or  standing 
in  the  cool  shade  of  the  trees.  The  lambs  are 
frolicking  on  the  hill-sides,  and  all  seem  pleasant 
and  happy. 

As  we  gaze  upon  the  face  of  Nature,  and  behold 
the  beauties  that  every  where  meet  our  eyes,  may 
our  thoughts  be  turned  to  Him,  who  has  spread  out 
this  lovely  picture  for  us  to  look  upon  and  enjoy. 

10 


110  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


AUTUMN. 

SUMMER  has  passed  away,  and  Autumn  is  now 
here.  The  -fields,  which  so  lately  were  decked  in 
green,  are  now  covered  with  the  ripened  corn  and 
grains. 

The  trees,  which  Spring  decked  with  leaves  and 
blossoms,  are  now  bending  with  their  rich  clusters 
of  nice  fruit. 

The  foliage,  in  the  orchard  and  forests,  is  chang- 
ing its  fresh  green  to  brown  and  crimson,  orange 
and  red,  presenting  a  charming  aspect. 

In  the  fields,  the  laborers  are  busy  gathering  the 
crops  and  fruits,  and  the  farmer  is  rejoicing  as  he 
beholds  the  rich  reward  of  his  toils. 

Autumn,  too,  is  vocal  with  the  goodness  of  God ; 
and,  as  we  see  and  enjoy  the  bountiful  crops,  may 
our  hearts  swell  with  love  and  gratitude  to  the 
"  God  of  the  harvests'"  who  is  our  maker  and  kind 
preserver. 


WINTER. 

WINTER  is  here,  with  his  cold  winds  and  drifting 
[  snows.     His  coming  has  stripped  the  trees  of  their 
leaves,  and  robbed  the  fields  of  their  verdure. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  Ill 


The  ponds  and  brooks  are  covered  with  ice,  and 
Jack  Frost  has  nipped  every  flower,  and  bud,  and 
blossom — and  often  tries  to  nip  our  ears. 

But  Winter  has  its  joys  and  sports.  How  merry 
the  sleigh-bells  sound!  How  pleasant  to  "coast" 
down  the  hills  on  our  sleds,  or  to  glide  over  the 
glassy  ice  on  our  skates. 

And  then,  when  evening  comes,  how  pleasant  to 
sit  in  the  warm  room,  with  our  dear  parents  and 
friends,  and  listen  to  conversation,  or  read  the  in- 
teresting books. 

Yes,  Winter — cold  and  biting  Winter — has  its 
pleasures ;  and,  while  we  enjoy  them,  let  us  thank 
our  "  Heavenly  Father,"  who  is  "  God  of  the  Sea- 


A  CLOSING  ADDRESS. 

IT  is  made  my  pleasant  duty,  at  the  close  of  our 
exercises,  this  afternoon,  to  thank  you  for  your  in- 
terest and  kind  attention.  To  you,  our  dear  parents 
and  friends,  we  owe  more  than  we  can  pay.  Your 
kindness  has  given  us  our  pleasant  school,  our  be- 
loved teacher,  and  our  useful  books. 

We  feel  that  it  is  a  great  privilege,  that  we  may 
come  here,  daily,  to  learn.  We  have  tried  to  obey 
our  dear  teacher,  to  learn  our  lessons,  and  to  be 


112  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


good  children.  We  hope  we  have  done  some  things 
well,  and  that  we  have  grown  wiser  and  better,  day 
by  day. 

We  hope  our  lessons  and  exercises,  at  this  time, 
have  pleased  you,  and  proved  to  you  that  we  have 
not  been  idle.  If  we  have  not  always  done  all  we 
ought,  we  hope  you,  and  our  kind  teacher,  will  for- 
give us,  and  we  will  try  to  do  better  hereafter. 

In  return  for  your  goodness  to  us,  we  can  only 
say  we  thank  you  sincerely.  We  will  try  so  to  live 
that  all  our  words  and  deeds  shall  be  words  and 
deeds  of  kindness  and  goodness.  We  will  not  only 
try  to  please  you,  but  also  to  please  our  Father  in 
Heaven,  and  we  will  daily  ask  Him  to  bless  us,  and 
our  dear  parents  and  teachers ;  and,  when  we  die, 
may  we  all,  parents  and  children,  receive  the  ap- 
proval of  the  "Great  Teacher,"  and  be  pupils  in  his 
school,  forever 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  113 


PART  III  -DIALOGUES. 


CONSCIENCE. 

JOHN. 

I  HAVE  a  little  voice  within, 
That  always  tells  me  when  I  sin ; 
I'm  sure  I  know  not  whence  it  came — 
Pray,  brother,  tell  me,  what's  its  name? 
, There  is  no  one,  however  near, 
Whispers  so  sternly  in  my  ear ; 
And  often,  in  my  lively  play, 
If  any  thing  I  do,  or  say, 
That's  wrong  or  wicked,  then  I  hear 
This  gentle  tapping  in  my  ear. 
I  know  it  is  not  Mother's  tone, 
*  Nor  Fathers,  for  when  they  are  gono 
It  keeps  on  prompting,  just  the  same, 
If  aught  I  do  that  they  would  llame. 

EDWARD. 

And,  brother,  don't  it  always  tell, 
In  kindly  notes,  when  you've  done  well; 
Are  not  its  whispers  always  mild, 
When  you  have  been  a  duteous  child? 

10* 


114  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

God  gave  not  to  the  bud,  nor  flower, 
This  inward  voice  of  wondrous  power. 
Ah,  no,  it  only  has  its  birth 
In  us,  who  perish  not  with  earth ; 
Its  name  is  conscience,  and  'twill  be 
A  voice  from  which  you  can  not  flee ; 
It  keeps  a  registry  within, 
Rebuking  those  who  live  in  sin, 
And  utters  words  of  softest  tone 
To  those  who  will  its  dictates  own. 


THE  CHILD  AND  THE  KILL. 

CHILD. 

BEAUTIFUL  rill, 
Sparkling  and  bright, 
Gliding  so  still, 
From  morn  to  night, 
Who  taught  thee  to  flow, 
Who  ordered  thy  course? 
And  thy  fount  below, 
Who  gave  it  its  source  ? 

RILL. 

Twas  God,  my  dear  child, 
Who  gave  me  my  source; 
He  taught  me  to  flow, 
And  ordered  my  course, 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  115 

'Neath  the  shade  of  the  trees, 
By  the  side  of  the  hill, 
Midst  the  grass  an  1  the  flowers, 
So  gentle  and  still. 

And  this  is  the  place 
For  me  to  do  good : 
At  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
In  the  shade  of  the  wood, 
I  water  the  herds ; 
I  refresh  the  tall  trees ; 
I  nurture  the  flowers, 
And  cool  every  breeze. 

And  if,  my  dear  child, 
God  e'er  fixes  your  lot 
At  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
Come,  0,  come  to  this  spot 
Hear  the  beautiful  birds 
Sing  among  the  thick  bowers, 
And  see  the  blithe  bees 
Sipping  sweets  from  the  -flowers. 

See  what  beauty  and  love, 
And  what  happiness  too, 
Spring  up  by  my  side, 
And  your  pathway  pursue  : 
Nor  sigh  to  be  great, 
Like  the  ocean  or  flood, 
But,  like  the  small  rill, 
Be  content  to  do  good. 


116  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

LAKE  AND  RIVER. 

"  They  also  serve,  who  only  stand  and  wait." 

LAKE.     RIVER,  why  dost  thou  go  by, 

Sounding,  rushing,  sweeping? 

RIVER.    Lake,  why  dost  thou  ever  lie, 
Listless,  idle,  sleeping? 

LAKE.     Naught  before  my  power  could  stand, 
Should  I  spring  to  motion  I 

RIVER.    I  go,  blessing  all  the  land, 

From  my  source  to  ocean. 

LAKE.     I  show  sun,  and  stars,  and  moon, 
On  my  breast  untroubled. 

RIVER.    Aye !  and  wilt  thou  not  as  soon 

Make  the  storm-clouds  doubled  ? 

LAKE.     River,  river,  go  in  peace ! 

Til  no  more  reprove  thee. 

RIVER.    Lake,  from  pride  and  censure  cease ; 
May  no  earthquake  move  thee ! 

LAKE,     I  a  higher  power  obey — 
Lying  still,  I'm  doing  ! 

RIVER.    I  for  no  allurement  stay, 
My  great  end  pursuing. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


117 


LAKE,     Speed  thee !  speed  thee,  River  bright  1 
Let  not  earth  Dppose  thee ! 

RJVER.    Rest  thee,  Lake,  with  all  thy  might, 
Where  thy  hills  inclose  thee. 

LAKE.     River,  hence  we're  done  with  strife, 
Knowing  each  our  duty. 

RIVER.    And,  in  loud  or  silent  life, 

Each  may  shine  in  beauty. 

BOTH.     While  we  keep  our  places  thus, 

Adam's  sons  and  daughters, 
Ho !  behold  and  learn  of  us, 
Still  and  running  waters  1 


i 


MOTHER  AND  CHILD. 

CHILD. 

I  SAW  the  glorious  sun  arise 
O'er  yonder  mountain  gray, 

And  as  he  traveled  through  the  skies 
The  darkness  went  away, 

And  all  around  me  was  so  bright, 

I  wished  it  would  be  always  light 


118  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

But  when  his  shining  course  was  done, 
The  gentle  moon  drew  nigh, 

And  stars  came  twinkling,  one  by  one, 
Upon  the  shady  sky. 

Who  made  the  sun  to  shine  so  far, 
The  moon,  and  every  twinkling  star? 

MOTHER. 

'Twas  God,  my  child,  who  made  them  all 

By  his  almighty  skill ; 
He  keeps  them,  that  they  do  not  fall, 

And  guides  them  as  he  will ; 
That  glorious  God  who  lives  afar, 

In  heaven,  beyond  the  highest  star. 


THE  BEES. 

CHILD. 
0,  MOTHER  dear,  pray  tell  me  where 

The  bees  in  winter  stay? 
The  flowers  are  gone  they  feed  upon, 

So  sweet  in  summer's  day. 

MOTHER. 

My  child,  they  live  within  the  hive, 

And  have  enough  to  eat ; 
Amid  the  storm  they're  clean  and  warm, 

Their  food  is  honey  sweet. 


THE  LITTLE  OHATOR.  119 

CHILD. 
Say,  mother  dear,  how  came  it  there  ? 

Did  father  feed  them  so? 
I  see  no  way,  in  winter's  day, 

That  honey  has  to  grow. 

MOTHER. 
No,  no,  my  child  ;  in  summer  mild, 

The  bees  laid  up  their  store 
Of  honey-drops,  in  little  cups, 

Till  they  would  want  no  more. 

CHILD. 

In  cups,  you  say — how  are  they  made  ? 
Are  they  as  large  as  outs  ? 

MOTHER. 
0,  no ;  they're  all  made  nice  and  small, 

Of  wax  found  in  the  flowers. 
Our  summer's  day,  to  work  and  play, 

Is  now  in  mercy  given, 
And  we  must  strive,  long  as  we  live, 

To  lay  up  stores  in  heaven. 


THE  LITTLE  QUESTIONER. 

CHILD.        GOD  is  in  heaven — can  he  hear 
A  feeble  prayer  like  mine  ? 

MOTHER.     Yes,  little  child  ;  thou  need'st  not  fear, 
He  listen eth  to  thine. 


120  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


CHILD.        God  is  in  heaven — can  he  see 
When  I  am  doing  wrong? 

MOTHER.     Yes,  that  he  can ;  he  looks  at  thee, 
All  day  and  all  night  long. 

CHILD.        God  is  in  heaven — would  he  know, 
If  I  should  tell  a  lie  ? 

MOTHER.     Yes  ;  if  thou  said'st  it  very  low, 
He'd  hear  it  in  the  sky. 

CHILD.        God  is  in  heaven — does  he  care, 
Or  is  he  good  to  me? 

MOTHER.    Yes ;  all  thou  hast  to  eat  or  wear, 
'Tis  God  that  giveth  thee. 

CHILD.        God  is  in  heaven — can  I  go 
To  thank  him  for  his  care  ? 

MOTHER.     Not  yet ;  but  love  him  here  below, 
And  he  will  see  it  there. 

CHILD.        God  is  in  heaven — may  I  pray 
To  go  there,  when  I  die  ? 

MOTHER.    Yes,  love ;  be  good,  and  then  one  da 
Hell  call  thee  to  the  sky. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  121 


"THE  BETTER  LAND." 

CHILD. 

"  I  HEAR  thee  speak  of  the  better  land, 
Thou  call'st  its  children  a  happy  band ; 
Mother!  oh,  where  is  that  radiant  shore? 
Shall  we  not  seek  it,  and  weep  no  more? 
Is  it  where  the  flower  of  the  orange  blows, 
And  the  fire-flies  dance  through  the  myrtle  boughs?" 

MOTHER. 
"Not  there,  not  there,  my  child  1" 

CHILD. 

"  Is  it  where  the  feathery  palm-trees  rise, 
And  the  date  grows  ripe  under  sunny  skies? 
Or  midst  the  green  islands  of  glittering  seas, 
Where  fragrant  iorests  perfume  the  breeze, 
And  strange,  bright  birds,  on  their  starry  wings, 
Bear  the  rich  hues  of  all  glorious  things?  "  , 

MOTHER. 
"Not  there,  not  there,  my  child  I" 

CHILD. 

"  Is  it  far  away,  in  some  region  old, 
Where  the  rivers  wander  o'er  sands  of  gold  ? 

11 


122  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Where  the  burning  rajs  of  the  ruby  shine, 
And  the  diamond  lights  up  the  secret  mine, 
And  the  pearl  gleams  forth  from  the  coral  strand  ? 
Is  it  there,  sweet  mother,  that  better  land?  " 

MOTHEE. 
"Not  there,  not  there,  my  child !" 

"  Eye  hath  not  seen  it,  my  gentle  boy ! 
Ear  hath  not  heard  its  deep  songs  of  joy ; 
Dreams  can  not  picture  a  world  so  fair — 
Sorrow  and  death  may  not  enter  there : 
Time  doth  not  breathe  on  its  fadeless  bloom ; 
For,  beyond  the  clouds,  and  beyond  the  tomb, 
It  is  there,  it  is  there,  my  child!" 


THE  RAGGED  GIRL'S  SUNDAY. 

CHILD. 
"  OH,  dear  mamma,  that  little  girl 

Forgets  this  is  the  day 
When  children  should  be  clean  and  neat, 

And  read,  and  learn,  and  pray  1 

"Her  face  is  dirty,  and  her  frock, 

Holes  in  her  stockings,  see ; 
Her  hair  is  such  a  fright ;  oh  dear, 

How  wicked  she  must  be ! 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  123 

"  She's  playing  in  the  kennel  dirt, 

With  ragged  girls  and  boys ; 
But  /would  not  on  Sunday  touch 

My  clean  and  pretty  toys. 

"/go  to  church,  and  sit  so  still; 

/  in  the  garden  walk, 
Or  take  my  seat  beside  the  fire, 

And  hear  nice  Sunday  talk. 

6 

u/read  my  Bible,  learn  my  hymns, 

My  catechism  say ; 
That  wicked  little  girl  does  not — 

She  only  cares  to  play." 

MOTHER. 
"Ah,  hush  that  boasting  tone,  my  love ; 

Repress  self-glorying  pride ; 
You  can  do  nothing  of  yourself — 

Friends  all  your  actions  guide. 

"Thank  them,  if  you  are  clean  and  neat; 

Thank  them,  if  you  are  taught 
To  keep  the  holy  Sabbath  day, 

Or  do  what  else  you  ought. 

"  The  nestling  bird,  that  waits  for  food, 

AYith  eager  beak  and  cry ; 
The  new-born  lamb,  that  on  the  grass 

Beside  its  dam  doth  lie ; 


124  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

u  Are  not  so  helpless,  child,  as  you  : 
Forbear,  then,  to  despise 

Yon  ragged  girl ;  she  has  no  friends, 
To  make  her  good  and  wise." 


INFANTINE  INQUIRIES. 

CHILD. 

"TELL  me,  oh,  mother!  when  T  grow  old, 
Will  my  hair,  which  my  sisters  say  is  like  gold, 
Grow  gray  as  the  old  man's,  weak  and  poor, 
Who  asked  for  alms  at  our  pillared  door? 
Will  I  look  as  sad,  will  I  speak  as  slow, 
As  he,  when  he  told  us  his  tale  of  woe? 
Will  my  hands  then  shake,  and  my  eyes  be  dim? 
Tell  me,  oh,  mother!  will  I  grow  like  him? 

i 

"  He  said — but  I  know  not  what  he  meant — 
That  his  aged  heart  with  sorrow  was  rent. 
He  spoke  of  the  grave  as  a  place  of  rest, 
Where  the  weary  sleep  in  peace,  and  are  blest ; 
And  he  told  how  his  kindred  there  were  laid, 
And  the  friends  with  whom  in  his  youth  he  playoJ ; 
And  tears  from  the  eyes  of  the  old  man  fell, 
And  my  sisters  wept  as  they  heard  his  tale." 

MOTHER. 

"  Calm  thy  thoughts,  my  own  fair  child ! 
The  fancies  of  youth  and  age  are  beguiled ; 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  125 


Though  pale  grow  thy  cheeks,  and  thy  hair  turn  gray, 
Time  can  not  steal  the  soul's  youth  away! 
There's  a  land,  of  which  thou  hast  heard  me  speak, 
Where  age  never  wrinkles  the  dweller's  cheek ; 
But  in  joy  they  live,  fair  boy !  like  thee — 
It  was  there  the  old  man  longed  to  be. 

"  Though  ours  be  a  pillared  and  lofty  home, 
Where  Want  with  his  pale  train  never  may  come ; 
Oh,  scorn  not  the  poor  with  the  scorn er's  jest, 
Who  seek  in  the  shade  of  our  hall  to  rest : 
For  He,  who  hath  made  them  poor,  may  soon 
Darken  the  sky  of  our  glowing  noon, 
And  leave  us,  with  woe,  in  the  world's  bleak  wild : 
Oh,  soften  the  griefs  of  the  poor,  my  child!'7 


THE  SEASONS.* 

SPRING. 

WITH  March  comes  in  the  pleasant  Spring, 
When  little  birds  begin  to  sing ; 
To  build  their  nests,  to  hatch  their  brood, 
With  tender  care  provide  them  food. 

SUMMER, 

And  Summer  comes  with  verdant  June : 
Tke  flowers,  then,  are  in  full  bloom ; 
All  nature  smiles,  the  fields  look  gay , 
The  weather's  fine  to  make  the  hay. 


'To  be  spoken  by  four  boys  or  girls. 
11* 


126  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


AUTUMN. 

September  comes :  the  golden  corn 
By  many  busy  hands  is  shorn  ; 
Autumn's  ripe  fruits,  an  ample  store, 
Are  gathered  in,  for  rich  and  poor. 

WINTER. 

Winter's  cold  frost,  and  northern  blast — 
This  is  the  season  that  comes  last : 
The  snow  has  come,  the  sleigh-bells  ring, 
And  merry  boys  rejoice  and  sing. 


SCHOOL  DIALOGUE. 

These  lines,  taken  from  the  Student  and  Miscellany,  were  composed 
fir  four  little  school-girls,  who  recited  them  fit  a  school  examination  at 
lackson  Valley,  Pa.  The  scene  represents  the  scholars'  play-ground. 

SARAH. 
MART,  don't  you  love  to  join 

In  merry  games  at  play  ? 
I'm  sure,  I'd  like  it  in  the  morn, 

And  through  the  livelong  day. 

MARY. 
I'd  rather  roam  throughout  the  fields, 

In  nature's  lovely  bowers ; 
Or  roam  amid  the  wild-wood  walks, 

On  paths  all  strewn  with  flowers. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  12*7 

I'd  weave  myself  a  floral  wreath, 

Of  blossoms,  rich  and  fair ; 
"With  myrtle,  mixed  with  violet, 

Entwined  within  my  hair. 

ANNE. 
0,  yes,  my  lovely  sisters,  yes, 

This  would  be  sweet,  'tis  true ; 
How  truly  you'd  enjoy  yourselves, 

And  I'd  go  with  you,  too. 

And  once  I  saw  a  happy  group, 

Who  met  upon  the  green, 
Adorned  with  flowers,  rich  and  fair — 

It  was  a  lovely  scene. 

ESTHER. 
Mary,  don't  you  love  your  school? 

I'm  sure  that  I  can  say, 
I'd  rather  learn  my  books  in  school 

Than  run  about  all  day. 

And,  as  our  teacher  loves  us, 

We  should  make  this  return ; 
Our  parents  too  have  sent  us 

Away  to  school,  to  learn. 

And  then,  I  know  they're  wiser, 

And  know  what's  best  to  do ; 
I'm  sure,  'tis  better  for  us — 

Girls,  don't  you  think  so,  too  ? 


128  THE  LITTLE  ORATOR. 

MARY. 

Why,  to  be  sure,  Esther,  dear, 

I  did  not  mean  to  say, 
I'd  like  to  leave  my  pleasant  school, 

To  u  run  about  all  day." 

ANNE. 

I'm  sure  we  have  forgot  ourselves, 
Here  talking  all  this  time ; 

"We  must  away  to  school,  1  see — 
0,  dear,  'tis  almost  nine. 

SARAH. 

Come,  let  us  all  be  there  in  time, 
And  never  break  the  rule  ; 

We'll  join  in  heart,  and  join  in  hand ; 
Away,  away  to  school 


THE  FLOWERS. 

CHILD. 

MOTHER,  who  made  the  pretty  flowers, 
That  blossom  every  where  ? 

The  daisies  and  forget-me-nots, 
And  violets,  so  fair? 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  129 

Who  made  the  golden  butter-cups, 

That  in  the  meadows  grow, 
The  bright-eyed  little  innocents, 

And  lilies,  white  as  snow  ? 

Who  made  the  wild  red  columbines, 

And  fill'd  each  tiny  cup 
With  honey,  which  the  little  bees 

So  daintily  sip  up  ? 

Who  made  the  fragrant  clover  fields, 
That  drink  the  summer  showers  ? 

It  must  have  taken  very  long- 
To  make  so  many  flowers. 

Mother,  who  keeps  the  flowers  alive, 

And  clothes  them  every  day  ? 
Who  watches  over  them  by  night, 

To  keep  all  harm  away  ? 

MOTHER. 

'Twas  God,  my  child,  who  form'd  the  flowers 

So  exquisitely  fair, 
And  the}r,  with  all  his  hands  hath  made, 

His  kind  protection  share. 

He  form'd  each  leaf  and  opening  bud, 

With  skill  so  nice  and  true, 
And  gave  to  some  a  golden  tint, 

To  some  a  violet  hue. 


130  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

God  shields  the  tender  flowers  by  night, 
And  cares  for  them  by  day ; 

He  giveth  to  each  different  plant 
Its  beautiful  array. 

He  sends  the  soft,  refreshing  rain, 
The  gentle  summer  showers, 

And  light,  and  air,  and  falling  dew- 
He  giveth  to  the  flowers. 

7Tis  the  same  God,  who  form'd  the  flowers, 
Makes  my  sweet  child  his  care ; 

Then  seek  to  raise  thine  infant  heart 
To  him  in  grateful  prayer. 


WHO  MADE  THEM? 

CHILD. 

"  MOTHER,  who  made  the  stars,  which  light 

The  beautiful  blue  sky  ? 
Who  made  the  moon,  so  clear  and  bright, 

That  rises  up  so  high?" 

MOTHER. 

"  'Twas  God,  my  child,  the  glorious  One — 

He  formed  them  by  his  power ; 
He  made,  alike,  the  brilliant  sug, 
And  every  leaf  and  flower. 


THE    LITTLE     ORATOR.  131 

"  He  made  your  little  feet  to  walk, 

Your  sparkling  eyes  to  see, 
Your  busy,  prattling  tongue  to  talk, 

Your  limbs,  so  light  and  free. 

"  He  paints  each  fragrant  flower,  that  glows 

With  loveliness  and  bloom ; 
He  gives  the  violet  and  the  rose 

Their  beauty  and  perfume. 

"Our  various  wants  his  hands  supply, 

And  guard  us  every  hour ; 
We're  kept  beneath  his  watchful  eye, 

And  guided  by  his  power. 

41  Then  let  your  little  heart,  my  love,        % 

Its  grateful  homage  pay 
To  this  kind  Friend,  who,  from  above, 

So  gently  guides  your  way." 


QUESTIONS  ANSWERED. 

MARY. 

Wno  showed  the  little  ant  the  way 

Her  narrow  hole  to  bore, 
And  spend  the  pleasant  summer  day 

In  laying  up  her  store  ? 


132  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

The  sparrow  builds  her  clever  nest 
Of  wool,  and  hay,  and  moss ; 

Who  told  her  how  to  weave  it  best, 
And  lay  the  twigs  across  ? 

Who  taught  the  busy  bee  to  fly 
Among  the  sweetest  flowers, 

And  lay  his  feast  of  honey  by, 
To  eat  in  winter  hours? 

ANN. 
JTwas  God  who  showed  them  all  the  way, 

And  gave  their  little  skill; 
And  teaches  children,  if  they  pray, 

To  do  his  holy  will. 


A  HAPPY  NEW  YEAR. 

Charles.     I  wish  you  a  happy  new  year,  Amos. 

Amos:  I  thank  you,  Charles,  for  your  good 
wishes.  I  wish  you  many  happy  years. 

Charles.  It  is  very  easy  for  you  to  wish  me 
happy  years — but  the  wish  will  not  bring  them. 

Amos.  Very  true,  Charles ;  but  we  may  do 
something  to  secure  them,  if  we  live.  No  one  can 
give  us  happy  years.  The  path  of  wisdom  and 
goodness  is  the  path  to  happiness;  and  if  we  walk 
in  it  we  shall  be  happy,  whether  others  wish  it  or 
not. 


THE    LITTLE     ORATOR.  133 


Charles.  Yes,  friend  Amos ;  but  it  is  very 
pleasant  to  receive  the  good  wishes  of  our  friends. 

Amos.  I  think  so,  too ;  only  we  must  not  depend 
upon  them  for  happiness.  We  must  be  good,  and 
do  good,  if  we  would  be  truly  happy. 

Charles.  I  agree  with  you  th£re;  and,  as  we 
have  wished  each  other  "  a  happy  new  year,"  let  us 
each  strive  to  merit  and  secure  it.  And  what  shall 
we  do  ? 

Amos.  "We  must  be  obedient  to  our  parents  and 
teachers. 

Charles.  And  kind  to  our  brothers,  and  sisters, 
and  school-mates. 

Amos.     Yes,  and  polite  and  civil  to  all. 

Charles.     And  we  must  use  no  bad  language. 

Amos.     And  always  speak  and  act  the  truth. 

Charles.     And  do  all  the  good  we  can.   . 

Amos.  Yes,  and  above  all  we  must  "Remembei 
our  Creator  in  the  days  of  our  youth."  If  we  love 
and  obey  Him,  and  do  the  other  things  we  have 
named,  we  shall  be  happy,  indeed. 

Charles.     Let  us  try  the  right  way. 

Amos.  Yes,  and  let  us  daily  ask  God  to  help 
us  to  walk  in  it,  and  then  we  shall  not  fail  in  our 
attempts.  Good  bye,  Charles. 

Charles.     Good  bye,  Amos. 


134  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


THE  GOLDEN  RULE. 

George.  I  never  will  play  with  Charles  Mason 
again,  mother.  He  is  a  naughty  boy,  and  I  don't 
love  him. 

Mother.  Why,  Georgie,  what  is  the  matter  now  ? 
I  thought  you  and  Charley  were  the  best  of  friends. 

George.  But,  mother,  he's  got  my  new  India 
rubber  ball,  and  says  he  will  keep  it.  But  I  say  he 
shan't— shall  he  ? 

Mother.  How  came  Charley  to  run  away  with 
your  ball,  my  son  ? 

George.  Why,  he  wanted  to  play  with  it,  and  so 
did  I ;  and  while  I  was  playing  with  it  he  caught  it, 
and  ran  home  with  it. 

Mother.  That  was  certainly  wrong,  George.  But 
if  Charley  had  a  nice  ball,  and  you  had  none,  would 
you  not  like  to  play  with  it  ? 

George.     0,  yes,  indeed. 

Mother.  And  do  you  not  think  Charley  would 
let  you  ? 

George.  O,  I  guess  he  would,  for  he  is  a  nice 
bey,  sometimes. 

Mother.  Well,  George,  you  know  the  Bible 
teaches  us  "to  do  to  others  as  we  'would  have  them 
do  to  us."  You,  it  seems,  would  like  much  to  play 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  135 

with  Charley's  ball,  but  don't  like  to  have  him  play 
with  yours.  So  you  see  you  do  not  do  as  you  would 
be  done  by.  You  did  wrong,  as  well  as  Charley.  * 

George.     But,  mother,  he  has  my  ball. 

Mother.  I  think  he  will  not  keep  it  long,  my  son. 
He  will  give  it  to  you  again. 

George.  But  he  did  not  do  as  he  would  be  done 
by  when  he  carried  it  off. 

Mother.  No,  he  did  not.  I  suppose  he  did  not 
think  any  thing  about  it,  any  more  than  you  in  not 
letting  him  play  with  you.  Don't  you  remember 
how  kind  Charley  was,  a  little  while  ago,  when  he 
had  his  new  balloon  ?  Did  he  not  let  you  play  with 
it? 

George.  Yes,  mother ;  and  don't  you  know  how 
I  let  it  blow  away  into  a  big  tree,  and  Patrick  could 
not  £et  it  down  a^ain  ? 

o  o 

Mother.     And  did  Charley  cry  or  fret  about  it  ? 

George.  0,  no ;  but  he  was  very  sorry,  and  so 
was  I.  .  I  took  the  money  uncle  gave  me,  and 
bought  some  paper,  and  sister  Ann  made  him  an- 
other balloon. 

Mother.  And  did  not  both  you  and  Charley  feel 
happy  when  you  gave  it  to  him  ? 

George.  Indeed  we  did.  Charley  keeps  it  now, 
and  sometimes  we  play  with  it. 

Mother.     That  was  regarding  the  golden  rule. 


• 


136  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


You  lost  his  balloon  and  gave  him  another,  which 
was  just. 

George.  Well,  mother,  if  Charley  loses  my  ball, 
do  you  think  he  will  be  just,  and  bring  me  another  ? 

Mother \     Certainly — if  he  does  what  is  right. 

Enter  Charley. 

Charley.  I  have  come  to  bring  home  your  ball, 
George.  Mother  said  I  was  a  naughty  boy  to  run 
away  with  it,  and  she  told  me  I  must  bring  it  back. 
And,  George,  I  am  very  sorry  I  plagued  you  ;  I  will 
not  do  so  again. 

George.  And  I  am  sorry,  Charley,  that  I  would 
not  let  you  play  with  my  ball.  You  may  have  it 
whenever  you  wish. 

Charley.  I  thank  you,  George;  and  you  may 
have  my  balloon  whenever  you  wish. 

Mother.  And  now,  dear  boys,  learn  a  lesson. 
If  you  would  be  happy,  and  make  others  happy,  al- 
ways be  kind  and  pleasant. 


THE  BOOK  OF  THANKS. 

Albert.     There,  I  feel  so  vexed  and  out  of  temper 
with  Ben  that  I  really  must — 

Clara.     Do  something  to  injure  him? 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


137] 


Albert.  0,  no ;  that  is  not  what  I  was  going  to 
say — but  that  I  must  look  over  rny  "book  of  thanks." 

Clara.  Book  of  thanks !  what  sort  of  a  book  is 
that,  I  would  like  to  know. 

Albert.  Here  it  is  (taking  a  small  book  from 
his  pocket;)  and  I  will  read  some  from  it,  if  you 
would  like  to  have  me. 

Clara.     I  certainly  should.     Please  read. 

Albert.  "March  8th.  Ben  lent  me  his  new 
hat."  "  When  I  lost  my  shilling,  Ben  found  it  for 
me."  "  June  30th.  Ben  invited  me  to  go  and  eat 
some  cherries  in  his  father's  garden."  So,  after  all, 
Ben  is  a  pretty  good  boy. 

Clara.  Why,  Albert,  what  do  you  write  in  your 
book? 

Albert.  All  the  acts  of  kindness  that  are  ever 
shown  me — and  you  would  wonder  how  many  they 
are.  I  find  much  good  from  writing  them  down. 
I  do  not  forget  them,  as  I  might  do  if  I  only  trusted 
to  my  memory,  so  I  hope  I  am  not  often  ungrateful ; 
and,  when  I  am  cross,  or  out  of  temper,  I  almost 
always  feel  pleasant  again  if  I  only  look  over  my 
book. 

Clara.  I  wonder  what  sort  of  things  you  put 
down.  Will  you  let  me  see  it,  Albert  ? 

Albert.     Certainly,  Clara.     (Passing  the  book.) 

Clara.     (Takes  it,  and  reads.)     "Amos  Kindly 


12* 


138  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

asked  me  to  spend  a  day  with  him,  and  did  all  he 
could  to  make  my  visit  pleasant." 

"  Mrs.  Day  gave  me  some  nice  peaches." 
*"  Freddie  Churchill   asked  after  me  every  day 
when  I  was  sick,  and  came  to  see  me  when  I  was 
getting  better." 

And  I  see  you  put  "father  and  mother"  at  the 
top  of  every  page ;  why  is  that,  Albert  ? 

Albert.  O,  they  are  so  good  to  me,  and  do  so 
much  for  me,  that  I  can  not  put  it  all  down,  and  so 
I  just  write  their  names,  to  remind  me  of  their  con- 
stant care  and  goodness.  I  know  that  I  can  never 
repay  them.  Read  what  I  have  put  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  book. 

Clara.  (Reads.)  "Every  good  gift  is  from 
above," 

Albert.  That  is  to  remind  me  that  I  owe  thanks 
to  God  for  all  the  blessings  I  enjoy. 

Clara.  Well,  Albert,  I  am  much  pleased  with 
your  book  and  its  object.  I  will  ask  my  mother  to 
get  a  blank-book  for  me,  and  then  I  will  keep  a 
"  Book  of  Thanks,"  too. 


DOING  RIGHT. 

Edward.     What  do  you  think  Willie  Churchill 
says,  John? 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  139 


John.  I  suppose  he  says  a  great  many  things ; 
but  I  am  quite  sure  you  have  not  heard  him  say 
any  thing  bad. 

Edward.  No,  nothing  bad,  exactly ;  but  a  little 
odd.  He  says  he  will  never  play  with  boys  who 
quarrel  or  use  any  improper  language. 

John.  If  you  call  that  odd,  I  shall  be  an  "  odd 
fellow  "  too,  and  I  hope  many  others  will  become 
such.  I  call  that  taking  the  right  stand,  and  I  like 
Willie  all  the  better  for  it. 

Edward.  But  why  does  he  pretend  to  be  better 
than  others  ?  Is  he  to  say  what  is  right  or  wrong? 

John.  I  do  not  think  Willie  feels  that  he  is  bet- 
ter than  others.  He  only  means  to  do  right,  and 
keep  away  from  those  who  do  wrong.  Do  you  think 
it  right  for  boys  to  quarrel,  swear,  or  lie  ? 

Edward.  Certainly  not.  But  what  have  I  to  do 
with  other  boys'  actions  or  words  ?  Can't  they  do 
as  they  please  ? 

John.  We  should  all  try  to  do  others  good,  and 
we  should  treat  all  kindly.  But,  if  boys  will  do 
those  things  which  are  wrong,  and  which  they  know 
are  wrong,  if  we  can  not  do  them  good,  we  should 
keep  away  from  them ;  for  we  are  told  that  "  evil 
communications  corrupt  good  manners."  Willie 
Churchill  is  a  very  kind  boy,  is  he  not?  Does  he 
not  treat  every  one  well  ? 


140  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


Edward.  O,  yes ;  he  is  one  of  the  best  boys  in 
school.  I  never  knew  him  to  do  a  mean  or  wicked 
thing,  or  speak  a  bad  word. 

John.  Well,  Edward,  I  think  we  shall  all  be  safe 
in  following  his  example  ;  and  I  hope  you  will  join 
me  in  trying  to  do  so.  If  we  will  all  unite,  we  may 
do  much  good. 

o 

Edward.  I  believe  you  are  about  right,  John  ; 
and  I  think  I  will  join  you.  We'll  help  each  other 
in  being  good,  and  in  doing  good. 


A  NEW  TIPPET'S  WORTH. 

Mien.  I  do  not  want  a  new  tippet  this  winter, 
nor  any  thing  new ;  Pm  going  to  ask  mother,  to  let 
me  wear  my  old  things. 

Jane.  lsrot  want  a  new  tippet,  when  all  your 
cousins  are  to  have  new  ones  ?  why,  I  never  saw  a 
girl  that  did  not  like  n'ew  things ! 

Ellen.     I  do  not  know  as  I  do,  exactly. 

Jane.     And  why  do  you  not? 

Ellen.  Because  it  makes  me  feel  real  bad  to  be 
dressed  up  so,  when  there  are  so  many  children  who 
have  no  clothes  to  wear,  or  houses  to  live  in,  or 
bread  to  eat.  O,  if  ray  mother  will  let  me  have 
the  money,  to  help  them  with,  instead  of  buying  a 
new  tippet  for  myself,  I  shall  be  so  happy. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  141 

Jane.  I  think  you  are  right.  I  often  feel  sorry 
when  I  see  poor  children,  but  I  never  the  light  that 
I  could  go  without  things  myself  to  help  them.  I 
uean  to  try  it. 

Ellen.  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,  and  I  think 
we  shall  both  feel  happier  for  practicing  the  self-de- 
nial which  the  teacher  told  us  about  yesterday. 

Jane.  The  Bible  tells  us  that  it  is  "  more  blessed 
to  give  than  to  receive ;"  and,  if  this  is  so,  we  shall 
be  most  truly  happy  when  we  practice  self-denial 
for  the  sake  of  doing  some  good  to  others. 


DON'T  BE  QUARRELSOME. 

James.  Don't  tease  your  brother  so,  Tom  Quar- 
relsome. You  are  more  like  a  wasp  or  mosquito 
than  a  Christian  boy.  Indeed,  you  have  made  him 
almost  afraid  of  you ;  and,  if  you  don't  break  off 
your  teasing  habit,  you  will  soon  drive  all  the  love 
he  has  for  you  out  of  his  heart. 

Tom.  Oh,  I  can't  help  teasing  him,  it's  so  much 
fun  to  see  how  bothered  he  looks,  and  how  uneasy 
he  is.  lie  looks  as  though -he  would  like  to  run 
away,  if  he  was  not  ashamed,  or  afraid  of  being 
laughed  at. 

James.  You  can't  help  teasing  him,  eh  ?  Non- 
sense !  Wicked  Cain  might  as  well  have  said  that 


.42  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

he  couldn't  help  killing  his  brother.  The  fact  is, 
you  don't  want  to  help  it.  Your  heart  is  so  unlovely 
that  it  finds  pleasure  in  saying  words  which  will  give 
him  pain.  * 

Tom.  But  I  don't  mean  any  harm  in  teasing 
him.  I  told  you  I  only  did  it  for  fun,  and  there's  no 
harm  in  that.  I  don't  do  it  to  be  ugly,  and  I  think 
you  are  very  naughty  to  say  so. 

James.  If  you  don't  mean  any  harm,  why  do 
you  do  it?  You  see  that  it  does  you  no  good, 
while  it  makes  him  unhappy,  and  that  is  doing  great 
harm.  It  also  makes  you  unlovely,  and  that  is  do- 
ing harm  to  yourself.  But  I  think  you  must  do 
what  you  do  with  the  intention  of  annoying  him,  un- 
less you  are  more  thoughtless  than  boys  of  your  age 
ought  to  be. 

Tom.  Well,  I  don't  believe  it  is  a  very  good 
plan,  so  I'll  try  and  be  careful.  I'm  sure  I  want  to 
do  right.  I'll  not  tease  him  any  more. 

James.  That's  right.  Stick  to  that  purpose  and 
you'll  both  be  happier  boys,  and  your  home  will  be 
a  pleasanter  one.  But  don't  forget  to  ask  God's 
help ;  if  you  do,  your  purpose  will  prove  weak  as  a 
rope  of  sand.  God  will  make  it  as  strong  as  iron. 
Tom.  But  I  am  afraid  that  I  shall  keep  forget 
ting,  and  so  tease  him  before  I  think  of  it. 

James.     Oh,  if  you  find  your  old  habit  trips  you 


THE    LITTLE     ORATOR.  143 

up  once  or  twice,  don't  give  up,  but  try  again.  Take 
this  motto  to  help  you.  I  can  leave  off  teasing,  be- 
cause I  ought. 

Tom.     Well,  I'll  remember  your  good  advice,  and 
try  to  follow  it. 


ON  DECEPTION. 

Mary.  Why,  Andrew,  how  could  you  tell  mother 
such  a  wicked  lie,  this  morning  ? 

Andrew.  What  do  you  mean,  Mary  ?  I  haven't 
told  any  wrong  story,  I  know.  I  wouldn't  be  guilty 
of  so  mean  a  thing.  What  makes  you  think  I 
would  ? 

Mary.  You -certainly  did  tell  a  wrong  story,  for 
mother  asked  you  if  you  ate  one  of  the  apples  from 
the  dish,  and  you  said  no,  when  /  know,  and  you 
know,  that  you  did  eat  one. 

Andrew.  No,  Mary  ;  you  are  wrong.  Mother 
didn't  ask  me  if  I  ate  one  of  the  apples,  but  only 
if  I  took  one  from  the  dish.  I  told  her  I  did  not, 
and  that  was  true.  The  apple  rolled  off  upon  the 
floor,  and  I  picked  it  up,  and  ate  it. 

Mary.  Well,  Andrew,  that  is  deception,  and 
deception  is  just  as  bad  as  lying.  How  could  you 
deceive  our  kind  mother  so  ? 

Andrew.     Why,  I  answered  her  question  truly. 


144  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

If  she  had  asked  me  if  I  had  eaten  one,  I  should 
have  said  yes. 

Mary.  You  knew  what  mother  meant  well 
enough,  and  your  answer  deceived  her,  and  you 
meant  it  should  do  so. 

Andrew.  No,  sister ;  I  did  not  mean  to  deceive. 
I  did  not  consider.  I  spoke  before  I  thought.  I 
see  I  did  wrong,  and  I  feel  very  sorry.  As  you 
say,  mother  is  very  kind  to  us,  and  we  ought  to  do 
all  we  can  for  her.  What  shall  I  do  about  the  apple  ? 

Mary.  My  advice  to  you  is,  that  you  go,  and 
tell  mother  all  about  it.  Confess  your  faults,  ask 
her  to  forgive  you,  and  promise  to  be  more  careful 
for  the  future. 

Andrew.  I  will  gladly  follow  your  advice,  for  I 
feel  quite  unhappy  to  think  I  have  deceived  mother. 

Mary.  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  speak  so,  brother. 
I  hope  you  will  also  ask  God  to  forgive  you,  and  to 
help  you  always  to  act  the  truth  as  well  as  speak  it. 

Andrew.  I  will  certainly  do  so,  Mary,  and  I 
thank  you  for  your  kind  words. 


ON  POLITENESS. 

Edward.  I  heard  some  one  say  that  Simon 
Rough  had  not  much  politeness.  Do  you  know 
what  that  means,  Richard  ?  I  am  sure  I  do  not 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  145 

Richard.  I  think  a  polite  boy  is  one  who  an- 
swers all  questions  in  a  civil  manner,  and  treats  all 
with  true  kindness. 

Edward.  If  that  is  .it,  we  all  know  Simon  has 
not  a  great  stock  of  it.  Only  yesterday,  I  heard  a 
gentleman  ask  him  where  Mr.  Jones  lives,  and  he 
very  bluntly  said,  "I  don't  know,  and  I  don't 
care." 

Richard.  Yes,  and,  more  than  that,  he  never 
speaks  to  others  in  a  kind  and  pleasant  tone.  As 
it  don't  cost  any  thing  to  be  polite,  I  think  we  ought 
to  be  so. 

Edward.  So  do  I,  Richard  ;  for  I  think  a  rude 
and  impolite  boy  is  a  very  unpleasant  companion. 
I  never  wish  one  near  me. 

Richard.  Nor  I ;  and  I  mean  to  answer  every 
one  politely,  and  if  I  ask  questions  of  others,  I  will 
do  so  in  a  civil  and  courteous  manner. 

Edward.  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so.  Let 
us  do  all  we  can  to  have  all  the  boys  in  our  school 
polite  and  kind. 

Richard.  I  agree  to  that,  Edward  ;  and  the 
surest  way  to  make  them  so,  is  to  give  them  the 
benefit  of  a  correct  example.  We  will  try  to  fuel 
right  and  act  right  ourselves,  and  then  we  shall  do 
some  good. 

Edward.     I  agree  with  you  fully,  and  I  am  re- 

"  13 


146  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

solved  to  do  as  you  propose.  If  you  ever  think  I 
do  not,  please  tell  me. 

Richard.  I  certainly  will,  Edward,  and  I  wish 
you  to  do  the  same  by  me  ;  and  thus  we  will  help 
each  other  in  the  right  way. 

Edward.  I  thank  you,  Richard.  If  we  thus 
act  we  shall  be  friends  indeed — for  true  friends  will 
always  try  to  assist  each  other. 


CRUELTY  TO  ANIMALS. 

Peter.  Charlie,  did  you  see  that  man  whipping 
his  horse  in  the  street,  this  morning? 

Charles.  Yes ;  and  I  think  he  is  a  cruel  and 
wicked  man,  to  whip  a  poor  horse  so.  I  think  he 
deserves  a  good  sound  whipping  himself. 

Peter.  I  think  so,  too.  The  horse  pulled  as 
hard  as  he  could  ;  but,  because  he  couldn't  draw  the 
heavy  load,  the  man  fell  to  beating  him  over  the 
back,  with  a  heavy  stick. 

Charles.  He  is  more  of  brute  than  the  horse. 
I  wonder  how  he  would  like  to  be  beaten  so  ? 

Peter.  It  might  do  him  good  to  receive  a  few 
blows  on  his  own  back.  He  would  learn  how  such 
blows  feel. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  14 Y 


Charles.  But,  Peter,  I  think  some  of  the  boys 
in  our  school  are  as  cruel  as  that  man.  I  saw  Tom 
Savage,  the  other  day,  worrying  a  poor  kitten.  He 
had  tied  a  large  stone  to  the  kitten's  tail,  and  then 
whipped  her,  to  make  her  run. 

Peter.  Yes;  and  I  saw  him  catching  flies,  and 
sticking  pins  through  them.  I  wonder  how  he 
would  like  to  be  treated  so. 

Charles.  Not  very  well,  I  guess.  Tom  is  not  a 
very  good  boy. 

Peter.  No,  that  he  isn't.  A  truly  kind  and 
good  boy  will  never  be  cruel  to  any  animal,  nor  be 
guilty  of  torturing  the  meanest  insect  that  lives. 

Charles.  The  Bible  teaches  us  to  be  kind  to  all, 
and  I  think  it  is  always  safe  to  follow  the  rules  of 
the  Bible.  You  know  it  says  "  A  merciful  man  is 
merciful  to  his  beast,"  and  I  believe  that  is 
true. 

Peter.  So  do  I,  Charlie  ;  and  I  intend  to  re- 
member it,  and  never  to  be  cruel  to  any  living 
thing. 

Charles.  And  I  will  imitate  your  example.  My 
motto  shall  be  "kindness  to  all  God's  creatures." 

Peter.  Very  good.  I  will  take  the  same,  and 
we  will  get  as  many  boys  to  join  us  as^  possible. 
We'll  all  go,  heart  and  hand,  against  cruelty. 
Kindness  to  all — cruelty  to  none. 


. 


148  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


ON  SCHOOL. 

Willie.  O,  how  tired  I  am  of  coming  to  school 
all  the  time.  I  do  wish  there  were  no  schools. 

Mary.  Why,  Willie,  how  can  you  talk  so  !  Do 
you  know  what  you  go  to  school  for  ? 

Willie.  I  go  because  I  have  to  go  ;  father  and 
mother  make  me  go  every  day.  If  I  could  have  my 
way,  I  would  not  be  there,  I  know. 

Mary.  If  you  feel  so,  Willie,  it  is  well  that  you 
have  a  father  and  mother,  to  look  after  you  and  see 
that  you  do  right.  I  go  to  school  to  learn,  and  I 
am  very  thankful  that  I  can  go.  Don't  you  think 
we  have  a  very  kind  teacher  ? 

Willie.  Yes,  our  teacher  is  kind  enough  ;  but, 
Mary,  I  don't  love  to  go  to  school. 

Mary.  Well,  then,  I  suppose  you  wish  to  grow 
up,  and  become  a  dunce. 

Willie.     Dunce  !    What  is  a  dunce,  Mary  ? 

Mary.  A  dunce  is  a  stupid  fellow,  who  knows 
nothing  ;  a  blockhead  ; — and  do  you  wish  to  be  a 
blockhead  ? 

Willie.  Why,  no,  I  don't  wish  to  be  a  dunce  ; 
and,  if  going  to  school  will  save  me  from  it,  I  am 
sure  I  will  go. 

Mary.     It  certainly  will.     We  go  to  school  to 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  149 


learn  to  read,  and  write,  and  spell,  and  to  learn  many 
other  things,  which  will  make  us  more  useful  and 
happy,  when  we  are  men  and  women. 

Willie.  Why,  I  am  sure  I  never  thought  of 
that  before  ;  I  thought  we  went  there  to  be  "out  of 
the  way."  But  if  going  there  and  studying  will 
make  us  wiser  and  better,  I  will  certainly  go. 

Mary.  That's  right,  Willie,  I  am  glad  to  hear 
you  say  so  ;  and  if  you  will  go  every  day,  and  study 
well,  and  obey  your  teacher,  you  will  find  school  a 
very  happy  place. 


TRUE  COURAGE. 

William.  Come,  Freddy,  let  us  go  over  on  the 
pond,  and  skate. 

Freddy.  I  will  go  and  ask  my  mother,  and  if 
she  is  willing  I  will  go. 

William.  Ask  your  mother  ?  Xonsense  !  Come 
along.  I  hope  you  are  not  tied  to  vour  mother's 
apron-strings.  I  don't  ask  my  mother  where  I  shall 
go,  nor  when  I  shall  go. 

Freddy.  Then  I  am  sorry  for  you  ;  for  we  are 
told  in  the  Bible  "  to  obey  our  parents  " — and  my 
mother  is  so  good,  I  love  to  do  as  she  wishes. 

William.     I  don't  want  any  of  your  preaching, 


150  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


Fred;  I  am  going  to  the  yond,  and  you  may  as 
well  go  with  me,  for  we  shall  have  a  nice  time. 

Freddy.  Perhaps  yon  will,  but  I  know  I  can  not 
have  a  good  time  if  I  disobey  my  good  mother,  and 
I  will  not  do  it. 

William.  Well,  you  are  a  coward,  and  a  slave, 
too.  I  can  take  care  of  myself,  without  running  to 
my  mother,  whenever  I  wish  to  go  out  of  her  sight. 

Freddy.  You  may  call  rne  a  coward  and  a 
slave  as  much  as  you  please,  but  I  shall  not  disobey 
my  mother.  I  should  feel  that  I  was  a  mean 
coward,  if  I  did  not  do  as  she  told  me. 

William.  I  should  like  to  know  what  she  has 
to  do  with  your  skating.  Isn't  she  willing  that 
you  should  have  a  little  fun,  now  and  then  ? 

Freddy.  My  mother  is  always  willing  to  have 
me  enjoy  myself;  and,  if  she  thinks  it  safe,  she  will 
let  me  go  and  skate.  But  she  told  me  never  to  go, 
without  her  permission.  I  promised  her  I  would 
not,  and  I  will  not  tell  a  lie,  if  I  never  skate.  I  think 
you  would  be  quite  as  happy,  if  you  would  regard 
your  mother's  wishes  more. 

William.  But  why  so  ?  Why  should  I  mind 
her  always  ? 

Freddy.  If  you  will  consider  how  kind  your 
mother  is,  and  how  much  she  does  for  your  comfort 
and  happiness,  you  will  be  very  willing  to  regard 


THE    LITTLE     ORATOR.  151 


her  wishes.  You  know,  William, -that  our  mothers 
know  what  is  best  for  us,  and  I  hope  you  will  see 
that  I  am  right.  So  long  as  they  do  so  much  for 
us,  we  ought  to  be  willing  to  do  what  we  can  to 
please  them. 

William.  Well,  I  think  what  you  say  is  true, 
and  I  will  follow  your  example. 

Freddy.  Then  I  am  sure  you  will  never  regret 
it. 


ABOUT  SCHOOL. 

Mary.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  this  morning,  for 
I  want  to  have  a  good  talk  with  you  about  our 
teacher. 

Ann.  Well,  Mary,  what  have  you  to  say  about 
our  teacher  ?  I  hope  you  think,  as  I  do,  that  we 
have  a  very  kind  and  good  teacher. 

Mary.  1  can  not  agree  with  you,  if  you  think  so. 
I  think  she  is  too  strict  and  too  particular  about 
every  little  thing.  I  really  don't  like  her,  and  I 
don't  see  how  you  can. 

Ann.  Do  tell  me  what  she  does  that  don't  suit 
you.  If  »he  injures  you  in  any  way,  or  causes  you 
to  do  wrong,  I  shall  not  like  her  so  well  as  I  now 
do.  How  is  it. 


152  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Mary.  Why,  she  won't  let  us  do  any  th:ng,  to 
Lave  a  good  time  in  school.  I  can't  even  whisper 
to  any  one. 

Ann.  Well,  Mary,  do  you  think  teachers  should 
allow  pupils  to  whisper  in  school,  just  when  they 
please  ?  How  could  we  get  our  lessons,  if  all  were 
whispering  ? 

Mary.  I  do  not  say  we  should  oil  whisper ;  but 
I  do  think  some  of  us  might,  once  in  a  while.  . 

Ann,  But  did  -you  never  think,  Mary,  that  all 
should  be  treated  alike  in  school — and  that,  if  our 
teacher  allows  one  to  whisper,  she  must  allow  all  to 
do  so? 

Mary.  Why,  no,  T  never  thought  of  that  before  ; 
I  was  only  thinking  of  myself,  and  thought  it  could 
do  no  great  harm  if  1  whispered  a  little. 

Ann.  But  if  our  teacher  is  good,  she  must  try 
to  do  all  she  can  for  us  as  our  teacher.  What  do 
we  come  to  school  for,  Mary  ? 

Mary.     Why,  to  learn,  to  be  sure. 

Ann.  Well,  we  can  not  learn,  unless  the  school 
room  is  quiet,  can  we  ? 

Mary.  No,  to  be  sure  we  can  not — but  I  never 
thought  of  it  before. 

Ann.  I  think  if  we  obey  just  one  short  rule, 
Mary,  and  are  very  careful,  we  shall  not  only  love 
our  teacher,  but  we  shall  learn. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  153 


Mary.     And  what  is  that  rule  ? 

Ann.  I  will  tell  you,  if  you  will  promise  to 
obey  it. 

Mary.     I  will,  if  it  is  a  good  one.  • 

Ann.  It  certainly  is  very  good,  and  very  short. 
It  is  "Do  right." 

Mary.  I  think  I  am  willing  to  obey  that,  so  far 
as  I  can.  But  I  see  no  great  harm  in  a  little  whis- 
pering. 

Ann.  I  think  every  thing  is  wrong  in  the  school 
room,  which  tends  to  disturb  the  school,  or  trouble 
our  teacher  ;  and  you  know  whispering  is  a  great 
annoyance. 

Mary.  Well,  Ann,  I  think  you  are  right.  I 
never  thought  of  these  things  before;  and  after  this 

O  O  ' 

I  will  try  to  follow  your  rule,  and  "Do  right." 
Ann.     If  you  succeed,  you  will  be  truly  happy. 


A  GOOD  RECOMMENDATION. 

(James,  as  Captain  of  a  Ship.     Thomas,  a  very 
small  boy.) 

Thomas.  (Approaching  James,  who  is  seated.) 
Pleas?,  sir ;  I  came  to  see  if  you  want  a  cabin-boy, 
to  go  in  your  ship  ? 

James.     Yes,  my  lad,  I  do  want  a  cabin-boy  ; 


154  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

but  what  is  that  to  you  ?  A  little  chap  like  you 
will  hardly  answer  for  a  cabin-boy. 

Thomas.  Oh,  sir,  I'm  real  strong,  and  I  can 
do  a  great  deal  of  work,  if  I  am  young  and  small. 
Please  do  give  me  a  trial,  sir.  I  will  try  very  hard 
to  suit  you. 

James.  But,  how  came  you  here,  my  lad,  in 
this  great  city  ?  Did  you  run  away  from  home  ? 

Thomas.  Oh,  no,  indeed,  sir !  My  father  is 
dead,  and  my  mother  is  very  poor.  I  wish  to  do 
something  to  help  her,  and  she  told  me  I  might 
come  and  see  you. 

James.  Well,  my  lad,  I  like  you  all  the  better 
for  trying  to  help  your  mother.  But  you  are  a 
stranger  to  me.  Have  you  any  letters  of  recom- 
mendation ?  I  never  take  boys,  unless  they  can 
bring  me  letters,  stating  that  they  are  good  boys. 

Thomas.  (Hesitating,  takes  a  small  Bible  from 
his  pocket.)  I  have  no  letters,  sir  ;  but  my  name 
is  in  this  Bible.  Please  look  at  it. 

James.  (Opening,  reads  aloud.)  "Willie  Gra- 
ham. Presented  as  a  reward,  for  regular  and 
punctual  attendance  at  the  Sunday  School,  and  for 
his  blameless  conduct,  there  and  elsewhere.  From 
his  Sunday  School  Teacher/'  Very  good,  that's 
enough.  You  are  the  very  boy  I  want.  You  shall 
sail  with  me  ;  and,  if  you  are  as  good  a  lad  as  I 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  155 


think  you  are,  neither  you  nor  your  mother  shall 
want  for  any  thing. 

Thomas..  I  thank  you,  sir;  and  I  will  try  very 
hard  to  do  right,  and  please  you.  When  shall  I 
come,  sir  ? 

James.  In  a  week  from  this  day.  Here  is  some 
money,  for  your  mother.  Tell  her  I  will  get  you  a 
chest,  and  have  it  filled  with  clothes  for  you,  to 
take  with  you.  I  always  like  boys  who  care  for 
their  mothers.  Good  bye,  my  lad. 

Thomas.     Good  bye,  sir. 


THE  ALPHABET. 

Samuel.  John,  did  you  ever  consider  how  much 
A,  B,  C  and  their  companions  have  done  and  can 
do? 

John.  No,  I  am  sure  I  have  not.  All  I  know 
is  that  I  hated  to  say  them  over  so  much,  when  I 
first  came  to  school.  They  never  did  me  any  good  ; 
that  I  know,  well  enough. 

Samuel.  But  they  are  really  very  useful,  and 
you  will  find  them  so — and  very  interesting,  too. 

John.  Pray  tell  me  of  what  use  they  will  ever 
be. 


156  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Samuel.  Why,  you  love  to  read  stories,  do  you 
not? 

John.  0,  yes,  I  am  very  fond  of  reading  story- 
books ;  but  what  has  A,  B,  C  to  do  with  stones,  I 
should  like  to  know. 

Samuel.  Why,  no  book  is  made,  and  no  story 
printed,  without  the  aid  of  the  letters  of  the  Al- 
phabet. 

John.     Is  that  so  Sam  ?    are  you  sure  ? 

Samuel.  I  am  very  sure.  The  twenty-six  letters 
of  the  Alphabet,  and  only  twenty-six,  are  all  that 
are  used  in  printing  all  the  books  you  ever  saw. 
You  may  examine  all  the  books  in  your  father's 
great  library,  and  you  will  not  find  a  single  letter 
except  those  in  the  A,  B,  C  list,  which  you  think 
are  of  no  consequence. 

John.  Well,  you  have  told  me  some  news;  and, 
if  what  you  say  is  true,  I  shall  think  more  of  A,  B, 
C  than  I  have  done. 

Samuel.  You  will  find  all  I  have  said  is  true; 
and,  if  you  are  not  satisfied,  ask  your  teacher,  your 
father,  or  your  minister.  They  will  all  tell  you  the 
same. 

John.  I  thank  you,  Sam,  for  what  you  say,  and 
I  will  certainly  think  of  it,  and  will  not  again  think 
lightly  of  the  "  Alphabet  column.'* 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  157 


A  FOOLISH   HABIT. 

(Two  girls,  seated.) 

Susan.     Oh,  sister,  I  am  tired  to  death ! 

Mary.  Tired  to  death!  why,  Susan,  what  do 
you  mean  ? 

Susan.  I  am  almost  tired  to  death,  then,  if  that 
will  suit  you  any  better. 

Mary.  I  think  that  is  wrong,  too  ;  it  is  not  true, 
and  we  ought  always  to  speak  the  truth. 

Susan.  Well,  at  any  rate,  I  could  not  possibly 
walk  another  step — no,  not  for  the  world. 

Mary.     Why,  yes,  you  would,  sister. 

Susan.  No,  I  am  sure  I  would  not;  nothing 
would  tempt  me  to. 

Mary.  I  am  very  sorry  for  that,  for  I  am  going 
down  to  the  museum,  and  I  was  going  to  ask  you 
to  go  with  me. 

Susan.  (Hastily  rising.)  What,  to  the  muse- 
um !  O,  do  let  me  go.  I  should  admire  to  go. 

Mary.  But  how  can  you,  if  you  are  tired  almost 
to  death  ?  You  say,  nothing  could  tempt  you  to  go 
as  far  as  the  school,  and  yet  the  museum  is  much 
further. 

Susan.  O,  I  am  quite  rested  now,  dear  sister ; 
and  I  would  n^t  miss  of  going,  for  all  the  world. 

14 


158  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Mary.  I  will  let  you  go  with  me,  if  you  will  be 
more  careful  of  your  speaking,  hereafter.  In  one 
minute  you  say  you  are  "almost  dead,"  and  that 
you  can  not  possibly  walk,  and  the  next  minute  you 
say  you  can  walk  well  enough.  Is  not  such  a  man- 
ner of  talking  all  wrong?  Is  it  not  wicked  ?  We 
should  say  only  what  we  mean,  and  that  should  be 
truthful. 

Susan.  You  are  right,  dear  sister ;  and,  if  you 
will  let  me  go  with  you  this  time,  I  will  promise  to 
be  more  careful  of  my  speech,  hereafter. 

Mary.  I  surely  hope  you  will ;  and  now,  if  you 
will  get  ready,  we  will  go. 


THE  LITTLE  PHILOSOPHER. 

Mr.  L.  I  thank  you,  my  good  lad!  you  caught 
my  horse  very  cleverly.  What  shall  I  give  you,  for 
your  trouble  ? 

Boy.     I  want  nothing,  sir. 

Mr.  L.  Don't  you  ?  so  much  the  better  for  you. 
Few  men  can  say  as  much.  But,  pray,  what  were 
you  doing  in  the  field  ? 

Boy.  I  was  rooting  up  weeds,  and  tending  the 
sheep  that  are  feeding  on  the  turnips,  and  keeping 
the  crows  from  the  corn. 

Mr.  L.     And  do  you  like  this  employment? 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  159 

Boy.     Yes,  sir,  very  well,  this  tine  weather. 

Mr.  L.     But  had  you  not  rather  play? 

Boy.  This  is  not  hard  work  ;  it  is  almost  as  good 
as  play. 

Mr.  L.     Who  sent  you  to  work? 

Boy.     My  father,  sir 

Mr.  L.     Where  does  he  live? 

Boy.     Just  b};,  among  the  trees,  there,  sir. 

Mr.  L.     What  is  his  name  ? 

Boy.     Thomas  Hurdle,  sir. 

Mr.  L.     And  what  is  yours  ? 

Boy.     Peter,  sir. 

Mr.  L.     How  old  are  you  ? 

Boy.     I  shall  be  eight  at  Michaelmas. 

Mr.  L.  How  long  have  you  been  out  in  this 
field  ? 

Boy.     Ever -since  six  in  the  morning,  sir. 

Mr.  L.     And  are  you  not  hungry  ? 

Boy.     Yes,  sir;  I  shall  go  to  my  dinner  soon. 

Mr.  L.  If  you  had  sixpence  now,  what  would 
you  do  with  it? 

Boy.  I  don't  know  ;  I  never  had  so  much  in  my 
life. 

Mr.  L.     Have  you  no  playthings  ? 

Boy.     Playthings!  what  are  they  ? 

Mr.  L.  Such  as  balls,  nine-pins,  marbles,  tops, 
and  wooden  horses. 


160  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


Boy.  No.  sir;  but  our  Tom  makes  footballs,  to 
kick  in  cold  weather,  and  \ve  set  traps  for  birds ; 
and  then  I  have  a  jumping-pole,  and  a  pair  of  stilts, 
to  walk  through  the  dirt  with ;  and  I  had  a  hoop, 
but  it  is  broken. 

Mr.  L,     And  do  you  want  nothing  else  ? 

Boy.  No,  sir;  I  have  hardly  time  for  those ;  for 
I  always  ride  the  horses  to  the  field,  and  bring  up 
t.ie  cows,  and  run  to  the  town  on  errands  ;  and  these 
are  as  good  as  play,  you  know. 

Mr.  L.  Well,  but  you  could  buy  apples  or 
gingerbread  at  the  town,  I  suppose,  if  you  had 
mon^y. 

Boy.  Oh  !  T  can  get  apples  at  home ;  and,  as  for 
gingerbread,  1  don't  mind  it  much,  for  my  mother 
gives  me  a  piece  of  pie,  now  and  then,  and  that  is 
as  good. 

Mr.  L.     Would  you  not  like  a  knife,  to  cut  sticks  ? 

Boy.  I  have  one — here  it  is — brother  Tom  gave 
it  me. 

Mr.  L.  Your  shoes  are  full  of  holes — don't  you 
want  a  better  pair  ? 

Boy.     I  have  a  better  pair  for  Sundays. 

Mr.  L.     But  these  let  in  water. 

Boy.  0, 1  don't  care  for  that ;  they  let  it  all  out 
again. 

Mr.  L.     Your  hat  is  all  torn,  too. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  161 

Boy.  I  have  a  better  hat  at  home ;  but  I  had  as 
lief  have  none  at  all,  for  it  hurts  ray  head. 

Mr.  L.     What  do  you  do,  when  it  rains  ? 

Boy.  If  it  rains  very  hard,  I  get  under  the  hedge 
till  it  is  over. 

Mr.  L.  What  do  you  do,  when  you  are  hungry 
before  it  is  time  to  go  home  ? 

Boy.     I  sometimes  eat  a  raw  turnip. 

Mr.  L.     But,  if  there  aie  none? 

Boy.  Then  I  do  as  well  as  I  can ;  I  work  on, 
and  never  think  of  it. 

Mr.  L.  Are  you  not  dry,  sometimes,  this  hot 
weather  ? 

Boy.     Yes,  sir  ;  but  there  is  water  enough. 

Mr.  L.  Why,  my  little  fellow,  you  are  quite  a 
philosopher ! 

Boy.     Sir  ? 

Mr.  L.  I  say  you  are  a  philosopher ;  but  I  am 
sure  you  do  not  know  what  that  means. 

Boy.     No,  sir — no  harm,  I  hope. 

Mr.  L.  No,  no !  Well,  my  boy,  you  seem  to 
want  nothing  at  all ;  so  I  shall  not  give  yomjnoney, 
to  make  you  want  any  thing.  But,  were  you  ever 
at  school  ? 

Boy.  No,  sir ;  but  father  says  I  shall  go,  after 
harvest. 

Mr.  L.     You  will  want  books,  then. 

__  _ 


162  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Boy.  Yes  sir ;  the  boys  have  all  a  spelling-book, 
and  a  Testament. 

Mr.  L.  Well,  then,  I  will  give  ycu  them — tell 
your  father  so,  and  that  it  is  because  I  thought  you 
a  very  good,  contented  bov.  So,  now,  go  to  your 
sheep  again. 

Boy.     I  will,  sir.     Thank  you. 

Mr.  L.     Good  bye,  Peter. 

Boy.     Good  bye,  sir. 


.ON  TARDINESS. 

Samuel.  What  a  fuss  our  teacher  makes,  if  we 
come  to  school  a  little  late.  I  am  sure,  I  see  no 
harm  in  being  a  few  minutes  late  ;  do  you,  Thomas  ? 

Thomas.  I  know  our  teacher  don't  like  to  have 
us  late,  and  I  think  we  should  try  to  please  him. 

Samuel.  Well,  I  should  like  to  know  what  harm 
there  is  in  being  tardy  at  school. 

Thomas.  I  know  what  our  teacher  says,  and  he 
knows  what  is  best.  He  is  certainly  very  kind  to 
us,  and  I  think  he  only  requires  what  will  be  for 
our  good. 

Samuel.  What  does  he  say  about  being  late  ? 
I  should  like  to  know  if  there  is  any  good  reason 
against  it. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  163 


Thomas.  He  says  the  habit  is  a  bad  one,  in 
many  respects.  If  we  come  late,  we  disturb  our 
teacher  and  the  school.  And  then,  he  says,  if  we 
form  the  habit  of  being  late  at  school,  'we  shall  be 
tardy  in  other  matters. 

Samuel.  I  never  thought  of  those  reasons  be- 
fore, and  I  am  not  certain  but  he  is  ri^ht.  I  re- 

'  O 

member,  when  I  came  late  the  other  morning,  the 
scholars  all  looked  up,  to  see  who  had  come,  and 
the  teacher  waited  till  I  had  got  to  my  seat,  before 
he  asked  the  class  any  more  questions. 

Thomas.  Yes,  I  recollect  it ;  and  I  wished,  then, 
that  you  would  not  be  late  any  more.  I  think  it  a 
very  bad  practice.  If  you  are  late  at  school,  you 
will  be  late  elsewhere.  My  motto  is  "Never  be  late? 
and  I  wish  you  would  have  the  same.  What  say 
you  to  that,  Sam  ? 

Samuel.  Why,  1  think  you  are  about  right.  I 
have  never  thought  of  the  subject  before.  From 
this  time,  your  motto  shall  be  my  motto,  and  I  will 
try  to  honor  it. 

Thomas.  That's  good.  And  now,  Samuel,  let 
us  do  what  we  can,  to  have  all  the  scholars  in  our 
school  adopt  the  same  motto. 

Samuel.  That  we  will ;  and  we  will  all  unite,  and 
call  ourselves  the  "Prompt  Band." 


164  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


ON  NEATNESS. 

Charles.  It  seems  to  me,  John,  that  you  feel 
pretty  smart  this  morning.  How  your  shoes  shine. 
1  hope  you  are  not  getting  so  proud  that  you  won't 
speak  to  a  fellow  like  me. 

John.  Why,  what  do  you  mean  Charles  ?  Don't 
you  think  I  can  have  my  shoes  brushed,  without 
being  proud  ? 

Charles.  O,  yes,  I  hope  you  can  ;  but  what's 
the  use  of  being  so  very  nice.  I  should  think  you 
never  saw  any  dirt.  For  my  part,  I  don't  care  if 
my  shoes  have  mud  on  them.  I'm  not  afraid  of 
dirt,  I  can  tell  you. 

John.  Nor  am  I  afraid  of  dirt ;  but  I  think  it  is 
our  duty  to  keep  ourselves  in  a  neat  and  tidy  con- 
dition. Would  you  like  to  have  all  the  scholars 
come  to  school  with  muddy  shoes,  so  that  the  floor 
would  always  be  covered  with  dirt  and  dust  ?  Our 
teacher  likes  to  have  the  school  room  in  a  neat  and 
clean  condition ;  and  I  think  she  is  right,  and  I  will 
do  my  part  to  please  her. 

Charles.  I,  too,  am  willing  to  please  my  teacher ; 
but  what  is  the  use  in  being  so  mighty  particular. 
I'd  like  to  know  ? 

John.     I  think  it  a  good  thing  to  be  neat  and 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  165 


clean.  My  mother  says  I  can  save  her  much  work, 
by  being  careful  about  my  shoes  and  clothes  ;  and, 
if  I  can,  I  am  sure  I  ought  to.  But,  I  think  I  can 
be  neat,  without  feeling  smart,  as  you  call  it.  Now, 
tell  me,  Charles,  if  you  do  not  like  to  see  boys 
neat?  There's  Torn  Careless  always  covered  with 
mud  and  dirt,  and  his  face  is  never  clean,  nor  his 
hair  brushed.  Would  you  like  to  have  him  for 
your  seat-mate  ? 

Charles.  Why,  no  ;  I  can't  say  I  would,  when 
it  comes  to  that.  I  think,  after  all,  that  you  are 
about  right;  and  I  will  try  to  be  more  careful  my- 
self, though  I  fear  I  shall  never  be  so  neat  as  you 
are. 

John.  0,  yes,  you  will,  Charles.  Once  form  the 
habit  of  neatness,  and  it  will  be  much  easier,  as 
well  as  pleasanter,  to  be  clean,  than  to  be  covered 
with  mud. 


THE  BEGGAR. 

Susan.  Mary,  did  you  see  the  boys,  this  morn- 
ing, plaguing  that  poor  old  beggar  1 

Mary.  No  ;  but  I  heard  the  girls  speaking  about 
it,  and  I  agree  with  them  that  it  was  very  cruel  for 
the  boys  to  do  so. 

Ann.     So  I  think,  and  I  told  them  so,  and  they 


166  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

all  shouted,  and  said  it  was  good  sport,  and  that  it 
was  fun  to  hear  the  old  man  scold  so. 

Susan.  I  think  no  good  boys  would  engage  in 
such  sport  as  that.  How  would  they  like  to  have 
their  fathers  treated  so  ? 

Mary.  That  is  what  I  asked  one  of  the  boys ; 
and  he  laughed,  and  said  his  father  was  not  an  old 
beggar. 

Susan.  No,  but  he  may  become  one.  Besides, 
the  Bible  teaches  us  to  do  good  to  all.  I  think  it 
is  very  wicked  to  tease  an  old  man  so. 

Ann.  Indeed,  it  is  ;  and  no  good  boy  would  do 
it.  If  the  man  is  so  poor  that  he  Las  to  beg  from 
house  to  house,  we  should  certainly  pity  him,  and 
do  all  we  can  for  him. 

Mary.  So  I  think.  And  now  let  us  go  and 
talk  to  the  boys,  and  let  them  know  that  we  do  not 
like  such*  actions. 

Susan.  That  will  be  right;  but  let  us  talk 
kindly  to  the  boys,  for  I  can  not  think  they  wish  to 
do  wrong.  They  have  not  considered  what  they 
were  doing.  Perhaps,  if  we  speak  to  them  pleas- 
antly, and  tell  them  how  we  feel,  they  will  be  more 
careful. 

Ann.  Yes,  we  will  do  our  duty,  and  let  the  boys 
knowr  that  they  can  not  please  us  by  treating  a  poor 
old  man  in  that  way. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  167 


ABOUT  FEATHERS* 

Teacher.     "  What  have  I  in  my  hand  ?  " 

Pupils.     "  A  feather." 

Teacher.     u  Whence  did  it  come  ?  " 

Pupils.     "  From  a  bird." 

Teacher.  "  How  do  you  think  a  bird  would  feel 
without  feathers  ?  " 

Pupils.     "  It  would  be  very  cold." 

Teacher.  "  What  do  we  wear  to  keep  ourselves 
warm  ?  " 

Pupils.     "  Coats,  jackets,  stockings,  etc." 

Teacher.     "  What  do  we  call  these  ?  " 

Pw/wfo.     "  Clothes." 

Teacher.     "  What  do  birds  have  for  clothes  ?  " 

Pupils.     "  Feathers." 

Teacher.  "  Can  you  think  of  any  animals  that 
wear  clothing  different  from  that  we  wear,  and  also 
different  from  that  worn  by  birds?  n 

Pupils.  "  The  sheep  wear  wool  ;  the  dog  and 
horse  wear  hair." 

Teacher.  "  Now  look.  (Throwing  the  feather 
into  the  air.)  What  do  you  see  ?  '' 

Pupils.     u  It  flies,  or  floats  in  the  air." 


*  Let  one  take  the  part  of  Teacher,  and  have  three  or  four  pupils 
answer  in  concert,  or  separately. 


168  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Teacher  "  If  I  toss  a  penny  into  the  air,  will  it 
do  the  same  ?  '' 

Pupils.     "  No,  it  will  fall  to  the  floor." 

Teacher.  "  Why  does  the  feather  float,  and  the 
penny  fall  ?  " 

Pupils.  "  Because  the  feather  is  light,  and  the 
penny  heavy." 

Teacher.  "  Can  any  of  you  tell  me  why  feathers 
are  better  for  birds  than  clothing  like  ours,  or  wool 
like  the  sheep's  ?  " 

Pupils.  "  Because  they  are  light,  and  birds  can 
fly  better  with  them." 

Teacher.  "Very  well.  If  they  had  heavy  cov- 
ering they  could  not  rise  into  the  air ;  or,  if  they  did, 
they  would  soon  fall  down.  From  this  we  may  see 
how  wise  and  good  our  Heavenly  Father  is.  He 
even  cares  for  the  birds.  He  says  in  the  Bible,  that 
a  little  bird  shall  not  fall  to  the  ground,  without  his 
notice.  Now,  if  God  sees  all  the  little  birds,  and 
takes  care  of  them,  do  you  think  he  will  ever  for- 
get little  children  ?  In  the  same  passage  in  the 
Gospel,  which  tells  of  God's  care  of  the  little  birds, 
it  says,  He  takes  still  greater  .care  of  his  children. 
I  wish  you  would  all  try  to  find  the  verse  I  mean, 
and  learn  it,  to  say  to-morrow.  Boys  sometimes 
kill  birds,  °,nd  destroy  their  nests — is  that  right?" 

Pupils      "  It  is  not." 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  169 


Teacher.  "  No ;  it  is  very  cruel,  and  I  hope  you 
will  never  do  so.  Now,  children,  examine  these 
feathers — are  they  all  alike  ? " 

Pupils.  "  One  is  white,  one  is  black,  and  one  is 
brown." 

Teacher.  "  What,  then,  will  you  say  of  the  color 
of  feathers  ?  " 

Pupils.     "  They  have  different  colors." 

Teacher.  "  Now,  take  one  in  your  hands,  and 
tell  me  how  it  feels  ?  " 

Pupils.     "It  is  soft." 

Teacher.     "  Are  all  parts'soft  ?  " 

Pupils.     "  No ;  the  middle  part  is  hard." 

Teacher.  "  Yes,  the  middle  part,  which  we  call 
the  stem,  is  hard,  while  the  down,  or  feathery  part, 
is  soft.  Is  there  any  other  difference  between  the 
two  parts  ?  '* 

Pupils.  "  The  stem  is  bright  and  smooth,  but 
the  rest  is  not." 

Teacfar.  "  What  do  we  say  of  those  things  that 
shine  ?  " 

Pupil.     "  We  sometimes  call  them  brilliant." 

Teacher.  "  And  what  of  things  that  do  not 
shine  ?  " 

Pupil.     "  We  call  them  dull. 

Teacher.  "Do  you  notice  any  other  difference 
between  the  two  parts  ?  Will  all  parts  bend  alike  ?  " 


170  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


Pupils.  "  No,  the  quill  or  stein  part  does  not 
bend  easily — it  is  more  stiff.'* 

Teacher.  "  Name  some  other  things  that  are 
stiff. " 

Pupil.     "Wood,  stone,  slate." 

Teacher.     "  For  what  are  feathers  used  ?" 

Pupils.     "  For  making  beds." 

Teacher.  "  Why  are  they  good  for  making 
beds  ?  " 

Pupil.     "Because  they  are  soft." 

Teacher.  "There  are  many  other  curious  things 
about  feathers,  which  I  will  tell  you  at  another  time. 
You  may  now  repeat  what  you  have  learned  about 
feathers." 

Pupils.  "Feathers  are  the  clothing  of  birds. 
They  are  very  light  and  soft.  God  takes  care  of 
the  little  birds,  and  still  more  care  of  us.  Feathers 
are  of  different  colors.  The  stem  of  the  feather  is 
hard,  and  stiff,  and  shining  ;  but  the  down  is  soft 
and  dull.  They  make  good  beds,  because  they  are 
soft." 


WHICH  DID  THE  BEST? 

Father.  Well,  children,  you  know  I  gave  each 
of  you,  yesterday,  a  nice  peach.  Now,  tell  me 
what  you  did  with  them. 


TFIE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  l7l 


Edmund.  I  ate  mine,  and  it  was  very  juicy  and 
sweet.  But,  father,  I  have  kept  the  stone,  and 
mean  to  plant  it,  and  raise  a  tree. 

Father.  That  is  well ;  it  is  always  wise  to  think 
of  the  future.  And  how  about  yours,  Amos  ? 

Amos.  I  ate  it  up  as  soon  as  you  gave  it  to  me, 
and  threw  the  stone  away.  Mother  gave  me  half 
of  hers,  too ;  and  they  were  both  very  nice. 

Father.  You,  rny  son,  have  not  done  very 
wisely — but  you  may  yet  learn  wisdom.  Come, 
Willie,  tell  us  about  your  peach. 

Willie.  When  Amos  threw  the  stone  of  his 
away,  I  thought  it  too  bad,  and  I  picked  it  up,  arid 
cracked  it,  and  found  a  nice  kernel  in  it.  But  I 
sold  mine,  and  got  money  enough  to  buy  a  half 
dozen  peaches. 

Father.  Prudence  is  well,  my  son ;  but  be  care- 
ful, and  not  think  too  much  of  trade  and  money. 
Now,  George,  we  will  hear  from  you. 

George.  Father,  I  took  my  peach  over  to  Mr. 
Mason's,  and  gave  it  to  little  Charlie.  You  know 
he  has  been  sick  for  a  longtime,  and  I  thought  the 
nice  peach  would  please  him.  Did  I  do  wrong, 
dear  father  ? 

Father.  I  will  let  others  say  first.  Tell  me, 
children,  which  do  you  think  did  the  best  with  his 
peach  1 


1  72  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

Edmund,  Amos,  and  Willie.  George,  father  ; 
George  did  the  best. 

father.  So  I  think,  and  I  hope  you  will  all 
learn  a  useful  lesson  from  the  peaches.  Always 
think  of  the  sick  and  unfortunate — and  do  what 
you  can  to  make  them  happy.  Then  you  will  be 
happy  yourselves. 


IS  IT  RIGHT? 

Alice.  Brother  Edward,  there  is  one  question 
we  ought  always  to  ask  ourselves,  when  we  are 
about  to  do  any  thing;  and,  if  we  would  ask  and 
answer  it  honestly,  it  would  be  of  great  service  to 
us. 

Edward.  And  what  is  that,  dear  sister — I 
should  like  to  know. 

Alice.     It  is  this  :— "  Is  it  right  ?" 

Edward.  That  is  a  very  short  question,  surely  ; 
and,  I  think,  a  very  good  one. 

Alice.  Yes,  dear  Edward  ;  and  yet,  I  fear,  you 
have  not  always  regarded  it  as  you  ougnt. 

Edward.     When  have  I  not,  sister  ? 

Alice.  I  do  not  remember  all  the  cases,  but  I 
could  name  two  or  three. 

Ed  word.  Please  do  so,  for  I  should  like  to 
know  what  they  are. 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  173 

Alice.  Will  you  promise  not  to  be  offended,  if 
I  name  them  ? 

Edward.  Certainly  I  will,  for  I  wish  you  to  tell 
me,  for  my  good.  I  do  not  wish  to  do  wrong,  I 
am  sure. 

Alice.  Well,  Edward,  I  will  tell  you  of  two  or 
three  cases,  in  which,  I  thought,  you  did  not  do 
quite  right.  When  mother  asked  you  to  do  an  er- 
rand, the  other  day,  you  told  her  you  didn't  want 
to,  and  asked  her  why  she  did  not  call  Mary,  to  do  it. 

Edward.  That  was  because  I  was  busy  playing 
with  my  top. 

Alice.  But  was  it  right,  Edward,  for  you  to  say 
so?  Only  think,  how  kind  our  dear  mother  is  to 
us'!  How  many  things  she  does  for  our  good. 

Edward.  Yes,  I  know,  mother  is  very  kind; 
and  we  ought  to  obey  and  help  her  always,  but  I 
didn't  think. 

Alice.  That's  it  exactly — you  did  not  think ; 
you  did  not  ask  yourself,  "Is  it  right  for  me  to  be 
unwilling  to  assist  my  mother  ? "  And  yesterday, 
^ou  know,  you  was  quite  angry  with  your  little 
brother.  Was  that  quite  right,  Edward  ? 

Edward.  No,  Alice,  it  was  not.  But  the  truth 
is  that  he  troubled  me,  when  I  was  reading  a  story, 
and  I  pushed  him  away  before  I  thought.  It  was 
wrong  in  me,  and  I  am  sorry. 


174  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 


Alice.  -  I  will  name  only  one  other  thing,  that 
I  think  of  now.  When  your  class  was  reciting,  a 
few  days  ago,  I  saw  you,  very  slily,  look  on  your 
book,  when  the  teacher  asked  you  a  question. 

Edward.  Well,  that  was  because  I  couldn't 
think  of  the  answer.  I  don't  think  there  was  any 
harm  in  that. 

Alice.  W^hy,  Edward  !  How  can  you  say  so. 
It  was  certainly  deceiving  your  teacher,  and  making 
him  think  you  knew  your  lesson,  when  you  did  not. 
Was  that  right,  brother  ? 

Edward.  JSTo,  sister,  it  was  not;  but  I  did  not 
consider.  I  thank  you  for  this  kind  talk  ;  and  now 
I  promise  that,  when  I  am  tempted  to  do  a  thing, 
I  will  always  ask.  before  I  begin — -"  Is  IT  RIGHT"?  ' 

Alice.  0,  brother  Edward,  I  am  so  glad  to  hear 
you  say  so;  and,  if  you  will  only  do  as  you  promise, 
you  will  be  much  happier  for  it. 


OUR  DUTIES. 

Mary.  Here  we  are,  all  together,  and  let  us  have 
a  good  taik  about  our  duties.  I  hope  we  all  wish 
to  do  right.  We  wish  to  know  our  duties,  and  also 
perform  them.  Lucy,  will  you  name  some  duty? 

Lucy.  I  think  we  should  love  and  obey  our  pa- 
rents, and  do  all  we  can  to  please  them.  We  can 


THE    LITTLE    ORATOR.  175 

never  repay  them  for  all  their  goodness  to  us;  but 
we  can  do  many  little  acts  that  will  please  them,  and 
make  them  feel  happy.  The  Bible  tells  us  to  '  hon- 
or father  and  mother." 

Clara.  Next  to  our  dear  parents,  I  think  we 
ought  to  honor  and  love  our  kind  teachers.  They 
meet  us  every  day,  and  labor  hard  to  give  us  knowl- 
edge that  will  fit  us  for  usefulness  and  happiness, 

Genevra.  I  think  another  duty  is  to  be  kind  and 
pleasant  to  our  school-mates,  to  do  all  we  can  to 
oblige  them  and  make  them  happy. 

Grace.  We  have  other  friends  besides  our  school- 
mates, and  I  think  it  is  duty  to  treat  them  well,  and 
do  all  we  can  to  please  them ;  for  what  would  this 
world  be  worth  to  us,  if  we  had  no  friends.  If  we 
would  have  friends,  we  must  show  ourselves  friendly. 

Ann.  Another  duty,  is  to  be  polite  and  civil  to 
all,  and  to  do  nothing  that  will  cause  any  one  the 
slightest  pain  or  grief. 

Almira.  The  duties  you  have  named,  girls,  are 
,  all  very  important.  We  should  not  only  be  kind  to 
all  persons,  but  also  to  all  animals.  A  toy  or  girl, 
who  can  treat  a  dog,  kitten,  or  any  other  creature 
with  cruelty,  will  not  be  a  truly  good  companion  for 
any  one. 

Mary.  All  the  duties  you  have  named  are  very 
important,  and  not  one  of  them  should  be  over- 


176  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

looked.  But  the  most  important  duty  of  all,  you 
have  not  spoken  of.  There  is  One  to  whom  we  owe 
every  thing  we  have.  Every  good  and  every  perfect 
gift  comes  from  our  Father  in  heaven,  and  it  is  our 
duty  to  love  and  serve  Him ;  for  in  Him  we  "live, 
and  move,  and  have  our  being."  And  now,  dear 

girls,  let  us  all  sing ; — 

%• 
"  Our  friends  are  dear,  that  we  have  here, 

But,  better  far  than  all, 
There's  One  we  love,  who  dwells  above, 
And  on  His  name  we  call." 


CLOSE  OF  SCHOOL. 

Julia.  Well,  girls,  to-day  is  the  last  day  of 
school ;  and,  for  one,  I  must  say  I  feel  sorry. 

Alice.  So  do  I;  for  we  have  had  a  very  kind 
teacher,  and  our  school  has  been  pleasant  every  day. 
How  do  you  feel  about  it,  Florence  ? 

Florence.  Why,  I  feel  glad  and  sorry  both.  I 
love  our  good  teacher  and  school-mates,  and  school 
has  been  very  pleasant  to  me;  but  then,  I  am  al- 
most glad  that  I  can  have  a  few  days  for  visiting  my 
cousins  in  the  country — it  is  so  delightful  to  go  into 
the  country  at  this  beautiful  season,  when  the  trees 


THE    LITTLE     ORATOR.  177 

are  full  of  leaves  and  blossoms.  Yes,  girls,  I 
am  both  glad  and  sorry,  if  one  can  be  both  at 
once. 

Julia.  0,  yes,  I  know  how  you  feel,  very  well. 
I  have  felt  so  many  a  time,  and  I  feel  so  now.  I 
love  my  teacher  an/1  my  school  so  well,  that  I  really 
feel  sad  to  think  we  shall  meet  no  more  in  this  room. 
But  then,  vacation  will  give  me  time  to  play  and  to 
visit  my  friends,  and  father  says  I  may  g6  to  New 
York  with  him.  Of  course,  these  things  will  be 
pleasant.  So,  you  se'e,  I  am  both  sorry  and  glad — 
same  as  you  feel.  Which  should  you  like  best, 
Alice,  to  have  the  school  keep  on  or  close  ? 

Alice.  It  would  please  me  best  to  have  the  school 
continue.  Our  teacher  is  so  pleasant  and  kind,  and 
makes  our  lessons  so  interesting,  that  I  don't  like  to 
have  school  close.  You  know,  girls,  what  a  cross 
teacher  we  had  before ;  and  I  am  so  afraid  we  shall 
have  another  just  like  her. 

Julia.  What,  another  like  Miss  Fret !  No,  it 
can't  be.  I  don't  believe  there  is  another  like  her. 

Florence.  Nor  I.  How  cross  she  was,  and  how 
she  always  scolded.  No  matter  whether  we  did 
right  or  wrong — 'twas  all  the  same  to  her.  She 
never  could  smile,  nor  speak  kindly.  I^uess,  when 
her  term  waa  out,  we  were  all  of  one  mind,  and  glad 
enough  to  have  the  term  close,  and  to  see  Miss  Fret 


178  THE    LITTLE    ORATOR. 

for  the  last  time.     But  we  all  love  Miss  Kindly,  and 
feel  sorry  to  have  her  leave. 

Julia.  We  shall  all  agree  with  you,  Florence. 
And  now,  as  we  are  about  to  part  with  our  teacher, 
let  us  try  to  think  of  that  good  Being,  who  gives  us 
kind  teachers  and  friends,  and  J?e  thankful  for  all 
our  blessings. 


Y A  04439 


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